Chasing The Sun
by HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: Scott can't believe that Derek's his mate, Derek likes to watch Sean Cody on Sunday mornings, and they both can't keep their hands off of each other for really any length of time.


The first breath of real, true autumn is always Derek's favorite of the whole year, dead in the middle of October, when the nights are nearly cloudless and the stars twinkle above Beacon Hills like infinitely distant sapphires.

He loves to watch the cloud of his exhalation, fogging the breath outside the reconstructed Hale house like a small cumulus descended to the earth. He's been out here since just before sundown, enjoying the cool and quiet of the preserve. He's wearing a sweater, dark gray with cuffs that are just long enough to go past his fingertips when his arms hang at his sides. There's a smell of beginning decay in the air, slightly sweet, holding the coming promise of even colder weather.

Derek loves it.

He hates the warm months, the sweat rolling down his back and the short sleeves. He likes being covered, able to feel protected in his own skin. Of course, being a werewolf doesn't exactly leave one feeling helpless but there's a certain comfort to be had in jeans that have long since molded to his body and coats of wool. He's spent the day hanging up and putting away all of his warm weather clothes, enjoying himself immensely.

He's sipping a cup of homemade cider, non-alcoholic since he has to drive soon. It's lukewarm now, but it still retains enough heat for it to put just the right amount of fire in his belly.

If only Stiles could see him now, sitting on his front porch and enjoying quiet time with a warm beverage; the boy would flip out and probably ask him if he'd gone crazy. Of course, Derek's concern with what Stiles has to say about him is monumentally small. Derek does indeed enjoy life and not "constantly exist in a state of abject despair and anger."

He just does it by himself, because frankly it's no one else's damn business.

Well, it _is_ one person's business.

Derek's phone buzzes in his pocket, the first time it has all day. He pulls it out slowly, in absolutely no rush to think of. He sees the banner across his lock screen, flashing an entirely too cheerful green.

Speaking of that one person…

From Scott: _We're gonna win tonight. Want to come watch?_

From Scott: 

Derek can't help the slight grin that spreads across his face. Scott's continuous happiness, in spite of all the crap that's happened to him over the last year – and it's really, really awful crap at that – continues to affect even Derek, who for a long time didn't have a lot to smile about.

Derek mouths the words to his reply as he types them.

To Scott: _I told you I was. Enjoying a couple minutes of quiet._

Derek stands, stretching his legs and picking up his mug. A loose board squeaks under the sole of his boot, creaking as Derek's weight travels across it towards the door.

From Scott: _Good for you, babe. Can you sit down front maybe?_

To Scott: _I'll try. Leaving in a few_.

Derek looks through the front hall closet for his peacoat, the same shade of gray as his sweater. The forecast had said mid to low forties for the night, so Derek's definitely not going to be cold if he can help it. He also picks up an old grocery bag, the paper worn but its contents precious; a soft, dark brown vicuna blanket, intended for use by one Scott McCall, and Scott only.

Derek pretends that Stiles won't end up under it too, seeing as how Scott actually plays during the games and Stiles benchwarms.

From Scott: _See you soon._

From Scott: _3_

Derek's smile maybe stretches into almost a full grin.

To Scott: _Play well, babe_.

Derek goes into the kitchen and retrieves his thermos full of cider. He has enough to share with Scott (or Melissa, who normally ends up next to him at these games) but the chances of Scott getting to drink it fresh are small. Not that he minds sharing with Melissa – once she figured out that Derek had no desire to maim or hurt her son any further and wanted to do the opposite, she'd become far more comfortable with Derek's presence in both her and Scott's life.

That and the whole murder investigation thing being dropped helped as well – Derek's not guilty of anything, really. Just always the wrong place at the wrong time. Derek's life hasn't gotten any easier, really – just more bearable. Being Scott's mate has definitely helped ease that burden considerably, too. Sure it's odd for there to be such an age difference among an alpha and omega but it's not really up to something as trivial as age. It's chemistry, attraction, and a lot of other "complicated wolf stuff" – as Scott had explained to his mom – that decides it.

Derek just tries really, really hard to not think about the fact that Scott's as jailbaity as they come and is thankfully semi-discreet. Derek doesn't expect full understanding until a couple more years down the line but hell, Scott's got a pretty good head start on subtlety – for a teenager.

Derek double checks the locks on his front door, finding himself wishing he'd spent the extra money when he'd rebuilt the place to have a security system installed. It's not like he couldn't afford it; it's a pride thing above all – Derek wants to feel like he doesn't _need_ a security system. He's had enough trauma in his life, and maybe not having ADT or whatever put in will help free up some of that paranoia.

Still, paranoia is how Derek's survived this long, and he's not quite ready to give it up.

Derek deposits his precious cargo of cider and blanket into the passenger seat of his Camaro, appreciating the throaty rumble of the exhaust as four hundred horsepower warms quickly to life. He inhales, deeply, the lingering tinge of Scott and sex still embedded in the leather of the seats. He doesn't wash his car often, especially since it's just him (and occasionally Scott) who ride in it. He relishes that scent, like a memory he can slip into and find a measure of happiness.

Traffic is light all the way to the high school, the parking lot near the lacrosse field nearly full as he pulls in. Derek's isn't sure who they're playing – and frankly doesn't care – but given the outsized number of people he sees in jerseys and jackets that aren't Beacon Hills, he guesses it's one of those rival high school things. Truthfully, he didn't spend a lot of time getting caught up in that sort of thing when _he_ was in high school, so the disconnect now is even stronger.

It doesn't mean he's not going to cheer as loudly as he can for Scott, however.

The lacrosse games aren't ticketed, though there are a couple of girls who look like they could be cheerleaders sitting at a table near the entrance to the field with a donation bucket. Derek drops in a twenty and gives them a hint of a smile, practically feeling them undress him with their eyes as he makes his way to the bleacher. So maybe he twitches his hips just a little and listens for the collective jaw drop – he can indulge them just a little.

By the time he sits down, every single seat in the first two rows is filled; he gets a spot in the middle of the third, leaving a comfortable berth between himself and the next person. He doesn't enjoy being super close to anybody unless he trusts them, even though the grandma in her Beacon Hills sweatshirt getting her camcorder out probably wouldn't hurt him if he wanted her to. He sniffs the air, checking for other wolves.

The only ones he smells are the ones who should be there: Scott, Isaac, and Boyd. Even then, their scent is hardly prominent at this point, just their sweat on the field mingling with the dewy grass.

"You'd think as many times as I'd seen you by now, I could spot you easier." Derek looks to his left, making room for Melissa as she sits down next to him. "Think he'll be too upset that we aren't sitting down front?"

Derek shakes his head. "I don't. He's understanding about that sort of thing,"

"Well, it is a big night. They're playing East Beacon – I remember the rivalry going all the way back to _my_ days in high school." Melissa pulls her scarf tighter around her neck and indicates towards Derek's bag. "What's in the thermos?"

"Cider, apple cider."

"Does it have anything other than apples in it?"

Derek smiles. "No, it's just cider. Uh, I made it myself. Want some?" Derek's already unscrewing the top.

"Would love some, thanks." Melissa holds out the cup and fixes Derek with an interrogative look. "You look… different."

Derek's eyebrows raise in question. "I do?"

"Yeah. You look… happy. Or maybe not happy, just more at peace." Melissa takes a sip of cider before she continues. "And this is really good, by the way. How much would it cost to make oh, a gallon?"

"Uh… thanks." Derek's not used to people complimenting his culinary creations – especially those who not so long ago wanted him dead or at least far away from their offspring. "And I like fall. It's peaceful."

"It's been fall for a month now."

"No, I mean… this kind of weather, and stuff." Derek looks away, listening for Scott. The team hasn't made it out on the field yet, still getting a pep talk – or a well meaning berating – from Coach Finstock.

"You're a fall baby, aren't you?"

"Sort of."

"Derek, look at me." Melissa uses that tone that makes his heart squeeze, gentle firm and mothering.

Derek turns to meet her eyes, hesitating just a touch.

"I'm proud of you. I'm proud that you've found some happiness and whatever else it is that's making you look less brooding. You're a handsome guy Derek, and frowning all the time doesn't suit you." She smiles and kisses him on the cheek.

"You don't really have to say that, you know." Derek pours himself some cider and looks back at the field.

"Yeah, I do. Especially since you and Scott are…" She crosses the middle and index fingers of her left hand.

"Mated," Derek finishes.

"Yep, yes, thank you for saying that word." Melissa blushes just a little and downs the rest of her cider. "Um… look, they're coming out!"

Derek won't admit to anyone that his heart starts to beat a little faster as the team files out onto the field, all of them in their full gear. Scott isn't at the front, more towards the middle with Stiles. Scott's grinning at something Stiles looks to be acting out instead of actually saying, his smile visible even behind his helmet. Derek watches as he comes up the sideline with the rest of the team, his net slung over his shoulder in a manner of easy casualty.

What thrills Derek more than anything is just how at ease with the world Scott looks right now. No struggling with AlphaFhood, no monsters chasing him, nothing – just happy, smiling Scott.

Scott catches Derek's eye as he approaches the bench, talking to Stiles still but not looking at him, his head just slightly turned in Stiles' direction. Derek watches as Scott's expression turns that much brighter, his dimples pitting his cheeks so deeply that even from his somewhat distant vantage point Derek can see them.

"You know, I'd appreciate it if you didn't undress my son while I'm sitting right next to you." Melissa's putting on her gloves and taking the cider from where Derek had set it between his feet.

Derek nearly chokes on his own breath as he says "I wasn't uh, undressing him. Just letting him know I was here."

Melissa doesn't say anything, just sips her cider and pats Derek's knee. "You're a good kid, Derek."

Derek suddenly starts to find the lacrosse game very, very interesting. How in the world Melissa speaks so openly is beyond him – Derek doesn't even like to talk about sex with anyone save for the person he's doing it with. Of course, she's probably been long inoculated, considering the amount of time she's spent with Stiles in her presence. That'd be enough to make anyone tough to crack.

Being a nurse who sees and hears all sorts of craziness probably helps too.

Derek isn't sure of the particulars of lacrosse – just that the objective is to get the ball to the goal and also run people down who are in your way. He doesn't pay a lot of attention to the other players, just Scott and whomever is plowing into him and vice versa. Every time someone runs into Scott though, Derek has to fight the urge to go down on the field and tear that person a new one. Scott gets right back up and brushes himself off, but it still makes Derek feel far more protective than he should.

Melissa nudges Derek with her elbow. "I'd let him cool off before I went to see him tonight, if he's busting heads like that."

Derek starts to reply but comes up with nothing appropriate; he's hoping that aggression sticks around long enough for them to make it to bed. He's had Scott railing him on the brain all day and watching him dominate the field hasn't exactly done anything to diminish them.

Hell, he picked up Scott's scent the moment he started to approach. Derek's trying, really, really hard, to not inhale and give himself away. It's not easy though, because from here he smells like exertion and grass and well, everything that Derek wants to bury his nose in.

"They're winning, Derek." Melissa's been mumbling in Spanish under her breath; what Derek's been able to pick up on doesn't translate to anything kind, and Derek once again reminds himself to try and not make her angry.

"They are?' Derek watches as Scott's jersey rides up, chest bumping Isaac and growling at each other. The low rumble goes right to Derek's ears and sends a shiver of pleasure down his spine.

"Yeah, ten to three. How have you not picked up on that?"

Derek can't say "I've been thinking about Scott's dick so far up my ass I taste it in the back of my throat" so he settles for "been a while since I brushed up on my knowledge of lacrosse – and I'm mostly here for Scott, anyway."

Melissa nods in that knowing way that seems to be a McCall family trait across the board, from what he's met of them. "Of course you are, I'm sorry."

"No it's fine – just… Scott."

"I know, Derek, I know."

Derek checks to see how much cider's left in the thermos and decides that the rest will be for he and Scott only.

Halftime rolls around and the benchwarmers start to stretch and loosen up, all rangy muscle ready for blood. Derek watches as Scott and Isaac sit down next to Stiles, high fives and backslaps all around. Stiles snuck his phone onto the field and they take a selfie, all pulling the most mockingly aggressive faces they can. Derek smiles to himself, and then remembers the blanket down between his feet.

As he starts to heft it, Melissa places a hand on his forearm. "You had that the whole time and didn't see fit to share? C'mon Derek, I'm freezing my ass off here." She winks at him and pushes his back for him to stand. "Go be a good boyfriend, I won't look if you two decide to suck face."

Some days Derek wonders if Melissa does this just to unnerve him or if mothering Stiles as well has just gotten under her skin like some sort of unfortunately contagious rash.

"Be back in a minute." Derek squeezes himself out of the bleachers and down to the bench. Scott keeps looking back like he's expecting Derek, and once Derek meets his eyes they don't look away until Scott's swung himself over the bench and is walking towards Derek. Scott's scent hits him before he's even in range of Derek's touch, and Derek allows himself a deep pull of the cold night air.

"You looked cold so I brought you something." Derek swallows against the sudden dryness in his throat as he pulls the blanket out of the bag and wraps it around Scott's shoulders.

"Don't really think I need it, babe." Scott wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his gloved hand, then smiles. "Hate to get it all gross and stuff."

"Hey, it's no trouble. Besides, with this cold air your sweat's gonna freeze and soon you'll be glad to have it." Derek wants to reach out and touch Scott's face, maybe bury his nose in his neck, hell kiss that grin right off of his rosy-from-the game cheeks. "You've been playing really well, by the way."

"Well, there's someone here I wanted to show off for." Scott takes off a glove and feels the material of the blanket between his fingertips, fascination dawning over his face. "Shit, Derek, this is really soft."

"Vicuna. Very warm, too." Derek readjusts the blanket around Scott's throat, letting his touch linger for just a moment against his damp skin. Scott tilts his head back just slightly, looking like he's just moving his helmet out of his eyes; Derek knows better, and he slides his warm fingers across Scott's neck before dropping them back to his side.

Scott shivers, and it's not in the least bit from the chilly air. "Say, Derek, do you have more of these back at your place? Because if so I think I might need to spend, say, the whole weekend checking them out." Scott's eyes glow red for just a moment, a flash in the pan of arousal that Derek swears makes him wet at both ends.

"The whole weekend?" Derek puts the finger with Scott's sweat on it in his mouth and fights back a whimper, Alpha pheromones and Scott's taste making him want to drop to his knees and slobber all over his knot right then and there.

"Yeah – don't have to go to the clinic or that much homework so… if you want me."

Derek nods, not at all trusting his voice to come out normal right now.

"I'll see you right after the game." Scott touches Derek's hand, squeezing his fingers for the briefest of seconds before he lets go. He starts to turn away and head back to the bench (and to a rather smug looking Stiles) but Derek calls out before he can get too far.

"Scott?"

"Yeah?"

Derek has to whisper but he knows Scott can hear him.

"Don't shower."

Derek's cheeks are red with arousal before he even has the chance to turn back around and return to his seat.

Mob mentality gets to Derek after half time.

East Beacon switches out their players, and suddenly what had been a slaughter in favor of Beacon Hills becomes an insanely tight race. Scott yells encouragement from the sidelines, biding his time until Finstock sends him back out onto the field. Derek howls and snarls with the rest of the people in the stands, almost baring teeth twice; not that anyone on the field could see it but it would make him feel better, at the very least.

Scott's sent back out with Isaac and Derek kind of swoons as he watches him take his place again, able to hear Scott's blood thundering through his veins. Each beat of his heart sounds as loudly as a war drum, gaining speed until both he and Derek are in sync. Derek almost feels the rush as Scott goes sprinting across the field, ready to push Beacon Hills ahead.

"He's not about to wolf out, is he?" Melissa's watching in slightly stunned silence as Scott burns a hole through East Beacon's defense.

"I don't think so. I think he's just… fired up. Or whatever." Derek wets his lips against the dry air and leans forward with Scott as he prepares for a hit.

"Kind of hard to not go down there and hit back, isn't it?" Melissa cheers Scott's name as he shrugs off the guy who collided with him and keeps going.

"Yeah – but he's fine." Scott's nearly a blur, he and Isaac working in tandem to score two more goals in as many minutes, giving Beacon Hills a four point lead.

Derek ends up screaming himself hoarse, Melissa competing with him in volume until Beacon Hills storms the field with a one point ahead win. Derek has to be careful to not get trampled in the ensuing rush, hanging back until some of the crowd has dispersed, parents and friend with their arms slung over the players backs, adrenaline and exhaustion a heavy fragrance in the air. Before he forgets he picks up the blanket from where it lays discarded on the bench, smelling it for a moment before he stuffs it back in his bag.

Derek loses Scott's amongst the celebratory throng, trailing the crowd back towards the school. Melissa walks with him, her arm through Derek's.

"I'd take him out for a milkshake but I think he's more interested in seeing you." Melissa elbows him gently and lets go of Derek once they're within sight of the entrance to the back building.

"He's _your_ son – I'm not gonna take away from that." Derek will admit he's more than a little eager to see Scott, to kiss the flush of victory from his cheeks and get lost in the feel and scent of his body. Derek realizes now just how much he _needs_ , not wants, to experience that.

"And Derek, you look like you're about to thirst to death. Please, before you dry up, be with Scott. I've seen dehydration and it's not pretty." Melissa pats his chest and Derek has to slam his mouth shut to keep from gaping.

Now he knows Melissa's yanking his chain.

Derek's awkward fumbling for a response is broken as Danny, Stiles, Isaac and Scott come bounding out of the building, all smiles and excitement. It takes a moment for them to spot Derek and Melissa, and once they do Scott's practically sprinting ahead of the rest.

"Mom, did you see? We won like…" Scott's got this nervously excited tremor to his voice, barely contained emotion that makes Derek's insides melt. "I know you saw, Derek."

"He was probably staring at your ass the whole time, Scottie." Stiles saunters up next to them, hanging all over Danny in a manner that's just short of obscene. "Besides they probably didn't even have lacrosse when he was in school."

Derek ignores him, his attention focused fully on Scott. He takes a second to admire his mate's face, not a trace of worry or hurt clouding his features. It's a wonderful look on him, one that Derek wishes he could fix there permanently. "I did see."

Scott mouths _want you,_ his eyes wide with a bewitching mixture of primal lust and the knowing that Derek's aroused right now; Derek would throw himself on top of Scott right now if he knew they wouldn't get arrested.

"Uh oh – looks like these two need a room." Isaac's got this infuriating look on his face; being the only other wolf present of course he's picked up on the signals Derek and Scott are broadcasting. "Stiles, Danny? Shall we go?"

Stiles claps Derek on the shoulder, making him flinch. "Derek, use protection. Scott, kill him if he doesn't."

Melissa rubs her temples and shakes her head. "Stiles, go away."

Scott looks like he wants the ground to swallow him whole.

"Um… Mom, look, I want to-"

"I know what you want. As much as I wish I didn't, I know." She hugs Scott tight, kissing him on the cheek. "Be safe, Scott – that's all I ask."

"I will be Mom, I promise."

"You smell disgusting – but better you ride with Derek than me." Melissa switches places and nudges Scott towards Derek. "Take a bath and do your homework – you've been doing great this year Scott, don't forget that."

"I'll see you on Monday, Mom." Scott hugs her one more time and kisses her on the cheek.

With a look that Derek's come to understand as "my child is growing up too damn fast," Melissa departs, leaving Scott and Derek alone.

Derek watches her back as she walks back to her car. "Never will get used to how open you two are with each other." Derek can't recall having that sort of relationship with his mother – although being pack, most everyone knew everything anyway.

Scott shrugs and waves goodbye before she gets into her car. "It's been just us for a long time now – we're used to it."

"I forget sometimes you're an only child, too."

"I have Stiles."

Derek suppresses a chuckle. "Does that really count though?"

"Yes." Scott doesn't seem in the least bit amused at his jibe.

Derek just shrugs in return, sizing each other up and letting each other's scent take the place of animosity. Now that they're actually alone, Derek doesn't mind being a little more bold.

"So… the whole weekend?" Derek's already reaching for Scott's hands, all ten fingers linked together as he pulls Scott towards him.

"The whole weekend – I even packed clothes."

"In all fairness babe, I really don't think you're gonna need them that much." Derek lets the implication hang, raking his eyes down Scott's body. He's back in his street clothes, jeans and a t-shirt with a brown fleece jacket halfway zipped up. It does little to hide the powerful shape of Scott's upper body.

"Think we need to go Derek – now." Scott whispers, his face just a couple inches away from Derek's.

"Yeah." Derek lets himself be pulled along to the parking lot, Scott's bike chained up out front. Derek was really hoping they'd ride together, but after Melissa, Derek and Stiles, that bike is the most protected thing in Scott's life.

Scott makes like he's about to remove his helmet from his bike but says "fuck it" and grabs Derek.

Derek makes a small noise like he's been snatched from mid-air as Scott's tongue shoves into his mouth, not asking or even gently telling – Scott's just _there._ Derek's eyelids slam shut, taking Scott's hands and placing them on his hips. Scott grinds his crotch against Derek's, moving his lower body as he curls his tongue against Derek's. Derek groans; Scott's already hard, and probably has been since their halftime tete a tete.

Scott pulls away, gasping for breath. "Um…"

"You smell _fantastic_ ," Derek moans, his nose now buried in Scott's neck – all that power, sweat, and adrenaline is right there, sitting on the surface of Scott's skin like cologne that can never be replicated in a bottle. "Scott, we need to go now." Derek doesn't leave room for argument; he's been leaking since half-time.

Scott's eyes are red, a quarter shifted before he pulls himself back and nods. "Alright. Just… don't pay too much attention to the speed limit, okay?" Scott's nostrils are flared, picking up on the sweet scent of Derek's arousal. The light breeze that's started to blow isn't helping either, and Derek really wants to get indoors before someone else smells him. Mated or not, other wolves will indeed try to get to him and Derek suspects that if anyone comes near, Scott will murder them.

"I'll try. God, Scott." Derek kisses him again, pushing him back to the rail where Scott's bike is secured. Scott grabs and kneads Derek's ass through his jeans, making his underwear where his slick's made it damp pull against the skin and hair on his butt. Derek shoves a knee between Scott's legs and let Scott rut against his thigh.

Scott's the first one to regain his senses, much to Derek's chagrin. "Go. Fucking go and let's go fuck before we get in trouble." There isn't a lot of threat directed at Derek, just dire truth.

Derek concedes and lets go of Scott. "Guess we're skipping the foreplay this time, huh?"

Scott looks ready to kill something as he herds Derek towards his Camaro. He hands off his bookbag and lacrosse bag for Derek to put in the trunk, barely restraining himself from taking Derek over the black, cool metal. "I'll…" Scott doesn't have anything else in way of a reply, just tucks his erection to the side and walks awkwardly to his bike.

Derek watches his ass until Scott's disappeared from view, each step getting a little less hesitant. As soon as he's in his car, Derek unzips his pants and gets his dick out, careful to avoid the teeth of his zipper. He's dripping with precome, each dewy drop like silver in the weak moonlight coming through the windshield. Derek licks it off of his fingers, not giving a damn if someone sees him; he'll just bare fangs and tell them to fuck off. He palms his cock, angled so that the tip reaches just past his navel. It's uncomfortable against the wool of his coat, far too rough. He unbuttons the jacket, trying his hardest to not jerk off; he just needs pressure relief, that's all.

He sees Scott approaching on his bike, the loud pop-pop-pop of the exhaust signaling it's time to go. Derek starts his car, putting it in gear and grabbing the wheel with his right hand, his left on his cock and using his thumb to rub at the spot where his foreskin is pulled back, right underneath the ridge of his glans. He has to bite his lip to keep from howling in pleasure, a noise he's sure Scott would hear. He leads the way out of the parking lot, thankful for his tinted windows so that Scott doesn't see him.

Derek's vision swims a little, keeping a hand on his dick as he leads them back towards his house. He knows a shortcut through the woods to get there but honestly, he doesn't have the energy to devote to not hitting a tree today so he sticks to the road; he's already sitting in a puddle of his own slick. His attention's kind of divided enough as it is.

The headlight of Scott's bike doesn't stray far behind Derek at all, keeping an even pace as he drives. Derek flicks his gaze back every thirty seconds or so to make sure he's still there. He knows Scott can find him if they get separated; he just doesn't want that to happen. No, if Scott falls behind that's that much longer Derek has to wait before he outright sits on his cock.

Fuck, he's horny right now.

They come to a stoplight, the front tire of Scott's bike nearly kissing Derek's bumper. He looks back soon enough to notice Scott adjusting his dick, no doubt becoming more and more difficult deal with, no thanks to the vibrations transferred to him through the seat. For a moment Derek's almost jealous he's not the one turning Scott on more.

Almost.

He waves to catch Scott's attention, and once he's sure Scott's looking up (and with wolf vision, no doubt) he coats his fingers in precome, making it obvious where his hand is. He sees Scott nearly fall of the bike as he repeats what he did back at the parking lot, licking each finger clean. He notices that he tastes almost sweet today, no doubt because of the cider he's been consuming over the last couple days.

Scott's sure to enjoy that.

It's a close, dangerous race back to the Hale house, Scott now even more impatient than before. Derek's okay with that though – he wasn't joking with the no foreplay comment. They have all weekend to tease and touch each other, and there's no questioning that they'll do just that. Scott might be young yet but he's learned _fast_ – he can play Derek like a virtuoso.

Not much moonlight is getting through the treetops, and the only useful light cast on the approach to Derek's house comes from his headlights. Scott's right on his tail, just far enough back to stop should Derek suddenly have to slam on breaks. Not that Scott would be hurt that badly; hell he just plowed through some fairly large guys out on the lacrosse field – bumping the back of Derek's car probably wouldn't faze him.

It rained for a solid couple of hours that morning, so the Camaro skids a touch as Derek comes to a stop outside his house. Scott's at his door before he's even unbuckled his seatbelt, trying to open the door. Derek unlocks it and just barely manages to disentangle himself before Scott's hauling him up and out by the front of his shirt.

"You're _mean_ ," he growls, grabbing Derek's still very much hard cock and kissing him at the same time. He shoves his tongue back into Derek's mouth, reading pheromones over explicit consent. Scott normally says please, really he does – just right now it's not necessary.

Derek mumbles as best he can that yes, indeed he is mean. He plunges his hands into Scott's back pockets, all ten fingers sunk into thick muscle as best as he can get them in. It occurs to him that Scott's skin is unnaturally warm right now, like he's not wearing…

"Are you wearing underwear?" Derek gasps.

"Jockstrap." Scott tries to chase Derek's mouth with his own but Derek pulls away.

"Oh no – I want to see you in it. Just the jock." Derek removes his left hand from Scott's pocket and transfers it to Scott's crotch, grabbing a solid handful and jerking him off through the denim.

Scott moans, friction making his vision swim and the scent of Derek's arousal his head light. "Maybe we should go inside."

Derek smiles, all teeth and not in the least bit innocent intent. He tucks his cock back in his pants to walk the thirty steps to the front door, not wanting to deal with any unfortunate zipper accidents. Scott's right behind him, rutting against his ass as he unlocks the door and scenting his neck.

"You smell incredible, Derek" – the words are whispered in Derek's ear like a prayer, too intimate and dripping with Scott's sweet brand of honesty that always comes out even when he's about to rail Derek so hard his eyeballs rattle in his skull.

"Right back at you, Alpha." Derek conceals his fascination at how wobbly kneed Scott gets when that word is directed at him – Derek kind of likes that he's still a kid. He's easy to figure out. Once he gets a little older though, Scott's going to be a sex machine, and Derek's going to have to work harder to get his dick hard.

Secretly patting himself on the back for being smooth, Derek kisses Scott through the door as it swings open, flipping them around so that Scott has to walk backwards. Derek kicks the door shut behind him, making dust fall from the ceiling into their hair. He encourages Scott in the direction of the stairs, both making a game try of getting each other's clothes off.

Scott finally gives up on subtlety and kicks his trainers off in the direction of the living room, breaking the kiss. "Sorry," he mumbles, and starts to climb the stairs, his jacket shed and left on the rail as Derek flings his own to the bottom.

"Don't be," Derek says. He's eager to see what Scott's ass looks like in just that jock, maybe stick his face in there and inhale the scent of his Alpha's body. He feels his hole start to leak even more at the mere thought.

Scott pushes Derek's bedroom door open, the moonlight spilling one soft beam over the pillows. He makes for it, pulling Derek along behind him. Derek lets himself be pushed down on the bed, his legs spreading automatically as Scott covers him with his body and mouth.

There's a moment where they wait to see who will submit first; as Alpha, Scott has rank but Derek's still a lot fucking stronger, years of training and honing making his muscles stand out underneath the thin material of his Henley. Scott's down to a t-shirt and jeans, getting rucked up around his stomach as he and Derek rut against each other.

Derek caves first.

"Off," he commands, plucking at the hem of Scott's shirt. "Want to smell you Scott, c'mon." Derek's finding it hard enough to not just hold him down and scent Scott until he comes in his pants.

Scott smirks, then settles back on Derek's thighs. "Why don't you turn on a light?"

Derek flicks on his bedside lamp. "Happy?"

Scott's smile softens into an expression of sweetness and he leans forward to cup Derek's face. "Very." He gives Derek a brief, smoldering kiss, licking into his mouth once before he sits back again. He pulls his shirt off slowly, feeling Derek's hands follow up the length of his body to his shoulders as more skin's revealed.

Derek traces the edge of Scott's pecs where they meet his stomach, bare ghosts of touches that make him shiver. "You've gotten bigger in the last week."

Scott shrugs, a little shyly. "I've been hitting the weight room. Thought it might help me hold my wolf better."

"It's working for you." Derek doesn't make even a nominal effort to hide the hunger in his gaze, his eyes moving with his hands as he appreciates his body. "But I have all weekend to look." He starts to take off his own shirt but Scott lays his hands on Derek's, stopping him.

"Can I?" Scott's face looks half eager, half like he's afraid of being rejected.

"Yeah, Scott, of course." Derek brings Scott's hands to his mouth and kisses the backs, releasing them when Scott starts to get impatient again. Sure they planned to go fast at first but Derek needs the taste and feel of Scott's skin on his tongue and against his body in a bad way.

Scott pushes his sweat damp bangs out of his eyes before he removes Derek's shirt, helping him with the long sleeves and caressing him like Derek had done just a moment ago. The lamplight is angled just so that it makes Derek's nipple piercings glint, snatches of silver that Scott plans to get his tongue on as soon as possible.

"You're wearing the silver ones today," Scott half-whispers. "Those are my favorite."

Derek's breath stalls in his throat as Scott's fingers pass over each dark little peak, and what sensation hasn't shifted to his lower body travels back up to his chest. Perks of being an Omega; when you're turned on, you feel it everywhere and ten times as much as anyone else. Derek's dick throbs in his pants, letting him know that they need to get this back into high gear.

"Babe – how about I see you in that jock now?" Derek goads Scott with a smile and a firm grope of his ass.

Scott mouths "okay" and slides backwards to the floor, socked feet the hardwood oak floor with a light thud. He rolls his hips, showing off the new muscles that have become more defined recently. Derek's jaw practically hits the mattress underneath him, Scott flicking open the button of his jeans with a smoothly casual motion, one that Derek suspects Scott practiced more than a few times.

It makes his insides liquefy.

Scott notices the change in how keenly Derek's paying attention to him.

"I uh… watched a couple stripping videos. I'm not great at it yet but…" Scott shrugs, sexy Alpha gone and instead replaced with painfully innocent teenager.

Well, _mostly_ innocent.

"I'd ask why you were watching them but we can talk about that later." Derek's got his right hand down his pants, tugging at his dick and not at all thinking about how wet the seat of his underwear is.

Scott bites his lips as he slides his jeans down and steps out of them. Derek turns the neck of the lamp towards him and whistles, low and loud. Scott's dick is hanging out to the left of his jock, silvery precome strings connecting the head to the skin of his thigh. Derek laughs, not at Scott, just out of happiness.

"You look ridiculous," Derek says once he gets his breath back. "Good ridiculous though."

"Yeah?" Scott throws his left arm behind his head, kissing his bicep between the bands of his tattoo while he lazily strokes his cock, the dark pink head appearing and disappearing as his foreskin retracts and extends; Derek tries to sneakily wipe away the drool at the corners of his mouth and fails, his attention completely focused on Scott's lower body.

"Get over here," Derek breathes, shoving his pants and underwear down and making a rather comical attempt at flinging them away when they're hanging off one foot. The heavy smell of his slick makes Scott practically leap onto the bed, rutting his heavy cock against Derek's wet hole.

"How d'you want it, babe?" Scott nips at Derek's neck, willing to wait about ten seconds for an answer – if there's one forthcoming. Most of the time when they get like this they mostly communicate through touch – or simply instinct.

Derek bares his throat, practically purring as Scott licks at the gentle outline of his Adam's apple. "As hard as you can go Scott – keep fucking me even when your knot swells." Derek turns his head for a kiss, sliding his tongue into Scott's mouth as he grabs Scott's cock and teases the tip over his hole. He pulls Scott's foreskin back too, circling his frenulum with the pad of his thumb.

"Oh," Derek adds, his voice at that pitch that Scott swears could melt butter "and keep the jock on."

Scott's body curves in on itself, Derek's touch raising a brush fire of sensation across his skin. He mouths up to Derek's parted lips, pulling the bottom one into his mouth and licking across it. Derek thrusts his hips up against Scott's lower body, cock poking into his mate's body. He leaves a sticky trail of precome across Scott's abs, sliding up to his midriff as Scott reaches down with both hands and tilts Derek's lower body up.

"Do you want me to finger you first, babe?" Scott kisses Derek between each word, each one a little more breathy than the last.

"No – just go Scott, I can take it." Derek squeezes Scott's hips in reassurance, his legs already starting to wrap around Scott's lower body.

Scott just nods, reaching down between them and positioning his cock against Derek's slick hole. Scott's warm, already flushed from his lacrosse game but now even more so, and Derek can feel it. He closes his eyes, lets the sensation of his mate's body start to wash over him as Scott pushes.

Derek makes himself breathe, knowing that holding his breath will only make it uncomfortable. Scott's big anyway, and Alphahood endowed him even further. Even a quarter of the way in Scott's already stretching him to the point of fullness, and Derek knows he gets bigger.

They have time though, plenty of it.

"Think your dick got bigger," Derek manages, Scott now a third of the way in and showing no signs of ceasing.

"Fuck, I hope not." Scott has to pause, his right hand planted against Derek's chest to steady himself. "I don't fit in most of my underwear as it is."

Derek's eyes open at that particular revelation. "Even soft?"

With no small amount of embarrassment, Scott nods. "Yeah."

"That's fucking hot, babe." Derek goes for a hungry kiss, pulling Scott's tongue into his mouth and easing his cock in by using his legs. Scott moans, half-human, half wolf, making Derek's bones rattle in turn. He's got Scott through his nervousness now; it's always when they're starting that Scott drags his feet. Derek gets it – there's a lot of trepidation still there, confidence that has yet to be cultivated.

Scott has to break for a breath, his left hand reaching for Derek's and threading them together above Derek's head.

"Fuck," Scott breathes, "you're _tight_."

Derek rubs his thumb over Scott's where their fingers are joined. "And your complaint is…"

Scott shakes his head, droplets of sweat hitting Derek's face as his hair moves. "None – just… I don't know how long I'm gonna last right now."

"Don't worry about it – we have all weekend. Now Scott, please, _fuck me_." There is a limit to Derek's patience, Scott or no Scott.

It's beautiful to watch Scott screw his courage up, his face turning serious, his movements becoming committed. He doesn't pull back and them slam into Derek as so many porn stars are want to do; instead, he starts slow, barely moving in fact. Derek feels that shift, the girthy bottom part of Scott's dick pulling back and then shoving right back in. His body opens up further, making it a little less difficult for both of them. Omega or not, Derek still needs time to adjust.

Good thing he has a lifetime for it.

Derek kisses Scott, pacing him with how hard his lips press against Scott's. Scott's receiving loud and clear, both hands going to Derek's broad shoulders as he starts to go faster and faster. They have to break the kiss, breathing hot against each other's mouths, litanies of _Derek_ and _fuck_ and _so wet, baby_ whisper-shouted into Derek's open mouth. Derek hums, moans, breathes in deep; Scott smells hot, alive, like a volcano barely contained. He carries on his skin contacts of earth, grass, adrenaline – it's heady, too much for any normal human to bear. Lycanthropically enhanced smell allows Derek to seal it in his memory, resisting the temptation to shove his face in Scott's armpit.

Better to do it when he can let Scott know it's going to happen rather than spring it right this second.

The oak frame that Derek's mattress rests on creaks like a sailing ship, the wood singing in sympathy with each thrust of Scott's hips. Derek's moans kick up just a notch louder than the bed, trying to outdo both it and Scott. Scott's in a groove now, hitting Derek's prostate over and over again.

"Derek, babe, I'm close," Scott says, interrupting the back and forth of forty year old oak and Derek's constant aria of moans.

Derek nods and pushes against Scott's chest, his cock rock hard and sandwiched between them. "Come on Scott, fucking knot me. Doing so fucking good baby, keep going," and on and on until Scott sits back, Derek's legs up on his shoulders.

"Gonna make you come too, Derek" he promises, his jockstrap digging into his waistline as he angles his lower body to really hit Derek's sweet spot. Derek grabs the headboard, his hips lifting clear off the mattress as Scott jerks him off, his grip firm, never going lower than halfway down his cock, concentrating on his foreskin and frenulum.

Derek wants to reach for a nipple, tweak it just so that when he comes it feels like he's being split in two – but the grip he has on the wood behind him is keeping him from shifting fully, so maybe next time. He can feel Scott's knot, halfway swollen, reaming him open as Scott fucks him harder and harder. He can't imagine what his hole is going to look like once they're done but hell if he cares, not when Scott's sending him straight to nirvana, albeit a temporary one.

Scott comes first.

It's with a nearly ear-splitting howl, a week of not being able to see each other making his claws extend, having to let go of Derek's cock so that he doesn't hurt him. He slams his lower body into Derek's one, two, three times, skin smacking as his knot lodges him in deep.

Derek's attention is so focused on watching Scott's face that he doesn't even realize he's coming until a spurt hits him across his cheek.

Scott had switched to his other hand, the claws not extended on it and had jerked Derek off right as his knot popped fully, making him come so hard that Derek nearly passed out. Derek holds his mouth open in a silent scream, his whole body shaking as he rides his orgasm out, come painting his face and torso white.

Derek has to push Scott's hand away, his whole body one oversensitive nerve by the time the last drop lands in his pubes, a full two minutes later.

"Think… think I'm done now," Derek says, breathing hard like a marathon runner. He has to be careful to not swallow any come, feeling it drip off his face and over his lips.

Scott finally opens his eyes, his jaw dropping when he sees just how plastered Derek is. "Uh…"

"Yeah, your fault." Derek decides to hell with it and licks his lips clean. His come is sweet like his precome, smacking his lips noisily as he savors it.

The look on Scott's face is truly priceless as he watches Derek savoring his own body.

"Keep doing that," he says, not missing a single movement as Derek scoops up more come from the hair of his chest.

"Think you need a taste." Scott's not left with any options as Derek puts three fingers right into his mouth, making sure Scott can get to as much of them as he can. He holds Derek's wrist steady while he licks each knuckle clean, holding eye contact with Derek the whole time.

"I taste apples," he proclaims once he's finished. "Like, really strongly."

"Home made cider, babe. I'd ask if you want some but…" Derek gestures to where their bodies are connected, trying not to wince as Scott's knot shifts when Scott spread his legs a little to distribute his weight.

"Yeah. Derek, I love you and all, but I'm honestly not a fan of this part of being a wolf. What if the house…" He almost says burns down, then catches himself. "What if it's raining and a leak springs while we're joined?"

Derek has to laugh – Scott's always asking the important questions, balls deep inside his mate or not. "There's actually a way around that, to be able to have sex without the whole knotting thing."

"I'm open to ideas. My legs are starting to fall asleep." Scott shifts again, and Derek yelps when his knot makes him sees stars.

"Hold on – let's switch." Derek sits up and manages to get Scott turned around so that he's leaning back against the head board and Derek's straddling him. It just makes Scott's knot feel even bigger than it already is but the look of discomfort on Scott's face disappears.

"Anyway – it's a specific concoction of herbs. Trouble is it's nasty as hell and depending on how much you take, makes you unable to knot anywhere from a couple hours to a full day."

"You don't have any, do you?"

"I have the right stuff – but I haven't had any need to make it. If you want to try it, we can. I get that this doesn't exactly feel good after a few minutes." Derek rubs Scott's sides as he talks, noticing the sleepy look in his eyes.

"You always feel good, Derek." Scott kisses his neck and collarbone, then yawns. "Fuck, I'm about to fall asleep on you."

Derek cups his face with tenderness. "Kind of wanted to clean up before you pass out – I'm tired too."

"But…"

Derek knows it's going to hurt like hell but they're really only left with one option. "I can pull off."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah – just… forgive me if I scratch you." Derek braces himself, his left hand on Scott's chest and his left around what of Scott's dick he can grab to hold it steady. "Ready?"

Scott holds himself still in anticipation. "Ready."

Pulling out with a knot inside isn't something Derek's really done before; normally he tries to time it so that he and Scott have time to wait. He understands that at one point it had reproductive purposes but for he and Scott, it's not a necessary thing. Derek can't get pregnant, being a male Omega. Evolution hasn't quite taught Alpha dicks to recognize the difference between an anus and the orifice they're supposed to go in, and Derek wishes mightily he could speed that process along.

Thinking about it certainly doesn't make it hurt any less.

Derek has to jump off the bed and run to the bathroom, holding his ass from the sudden release on Scott's dick. He can feel the come and slick still inside him run down his leg, closing the door before he sits down on the toilet and tries very hard to not think about what his body's currently doing.

No one ever said it was going to be pretty, being a werewolf and all.

He smells Scott on the other side of the door.

"You okay Derek?"

"I'm fine," Derek replies, forcing his voice to sound normal. "Just give me a minute." Derek thinks about apple cider while he finishes cleaning himself up and not how Scott's on the other side of the door sounding worried.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you – I didn't mean to," Scott says. He sounds like he's leaning right against the door, his voice coming from near the top panel of wood.

Derek's heart breaks just a little – Scott's too damn sweet for his own good. That's not false apology in his voice, either. "I'm fine Scott, I promise." Derek flushes the toilet and washes his hands, listening to Scott's heartbeat over the sound of the water. "You can come in."

Scott opens the door slowly, like he's giving Derek the chance to protect his modesty. He's still hard, his cock pointed slightly up, like it's aimed at Derek's face. Come drools from the end of its own accord and it occurs to Derek that Scott's orgasm definitely wasn't over, pooling on the bathroom floor between his feet. Scott looks down in embarrassment, covering the end of his dick as though he can stop natural processes that simply.

It's adorable, really.

Derek covers the gap between them in two steps and puts his hands on Scott's biceps. "Want some help?"

Scott nods, afraid to speak – like his orgasm is something to be ashamed of.

"C'mere," Derek says, pulling Scott into a kiss. Scott goes easily, mouth open the second Derek's lips touch his. He hugs Derek tight, fingers splayed across Derek's upper back as Derek takes a hold of his cock and jerks him very, very easily.

"You don't have a thing to be ashamed of, Scott," he whispers, "not with me, I promise." His fingers are already half-coated in come, and it's starting to pool between his feet.

"Hurts," Scott manages. "Too sensitive." He curls into Derek's body, his face buried in his shoulder. His body jerks with nearly every convulsion of his dick

"Want me to stop?"

"No. Better than letting it ache by itself."

Derek uses his other hand to cup the back of Scott's head stroke his hair. "This is just another part of being an Alpha, nothing unnatural. Just that true Alphas get the perk of coming a lot more." Derek nuzzles the shell of Scott's ear, holding him tight as another wave of orgasm makes Scott's toes curl.

"I'm… fuck, Derek, I'm getting your floor all messy."

"And it cleans up easy, I promise." Derek places his hand under Scott's chin so that he can meet his eyes. "And if we weren't sore already, this'd be sexy as hell."

Scott huffs a laugh, then kisses Derek's chin. "To me it's just a pain in the ass."

"Says he who fucked me so hard I nearly blacked out."

Scott's grin turns half lascivious, enough to make Derek's skin prickle with pleasure at the very recent memory. "Can't say I'm too beat up about that."

"You shouldn't be – that's the hardest I've come in a long time."

"Gives me a bar to clear tomorrow – if you want me to try."

"Yeah, I'm going to just sit here and not touch you for a whole weekend. Of course I want you to try – and tomorrow, we'll do it better."

"Is there better?" Scott's starting to sound less strained, just tired, and Derek lets go of his dick.

"There is. And maybe next time we can go without the knotting and just gun for the part where we come hard once and then rest in between."

"Yeah, continual orgasm isn't nearly as fun as I thought it would be." Scott has to screw his eyes shut again, finally feeling his body start to empty itself completely. "I feel dry by the time it's over, every time."

"Well, you _do_ come a lot."

"Guess this is why heats are such a dangerous time, huh? Too lazy to do anything aside from fuck and when you do get your energy back well…"

"You're right – and my heats' coming up week after next, too." Derek's done four with Scott so far, and each time they've gotten better at getting through it.

"That'll use up all of my absences for this quarter."

"Good thing you can't really get sick, right?' Derek smiles and Scott gently cuffs him on the back of the head.

"And it's kind of hard to lie to the vice-principal as to why you were out – 'oh I was just having insanely hot sex with my werewolf boyfriend for a week, is that covered in the excused absence policy?' – I think she's starting to think I'm a lunatic." Scott rests his head against Derek's shoulder, realizing that he referred to Derek as his boyfriend.

"I mean… my mate. I guess that other term isn't really accurate, is it?"

Derek shakes his head, letting Scott listen to the joyful ping of his heartbeat. "No, I'm… I call you my boyfriend too. Just seems easier to say."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I like that term. Just it's more than a term, it's…"

"Deeper."

"Exactly."

There's a warm silence for a few minutes, just their heartbeats syncing up and Derek smelling Scott's damp hair.

"I think I'm done."

Derek opens his eyes, having almost dozed off while holding Scott. "Hm?"

"I'm done – my orgasm, I mean." Scott's cock is half soft now and his knot's disappeared completely. He steps back just an inch, careful to avoid slipping in the mess of come on Derek's floor.

"Want to get cleaned up now?" Derek realized that both their fronts are sticky where his own come is half-dried, not having wiped it off when he should have.

"Definitely." Scott gingerly moves from Derek's embrace, gauging how much his knees feel like cooperating. Derek watches him as he moves to lean against the bathtub, feeling his insides warm with contentment.

"Bath?" Derek asks, grabbing a towel from under the sink to clean up the mess.

"Yeah. Don't think I'm much for standing right now." Scott's rubbing his eyes and trying to conceal a yawn. "If I fall asleep in the tub, just leave me there, I'll get out eventually."

"Nope – you're sleeping in the bed with me. I got new sheets yesterday and I'm not breaking them in by myself."

"They aren't on there yet, are they?"

"No worries. We already ruined the ones on it now. Couple months ago, actually."

"Was that the full moon week?"

Derek's knowing look is all the answer Scott requires.

"Gotcha." Scott smiles back at Derek, studying his body, taking in each hard plane and line, appreciating the dark hair that dapples every surface. Derek doesn't move, just lets Scott look to his heart's content. When it's just Scott, he doesn't mind. No, Scott isn't here just for his body or a good time, and that's something that Derek has to continually hold near some days to keep going.

"How about turning on the water?" Derek discards the ruined towel, far more interested in soaking in scalding water with Scott.

"Yeah, your bathtub doesn't like me, remember?"

"I fixed the faulty pipes – nothing but appropriately hot water now." Derek swings his leg over the side of the white iron, settling down against the cool surface and extending his hand for Scott to join him.

Scott takes it, ending up on his knees in front of Derek. "Don't think it needs to be too hot with you in here."

Even Derek's eye roll can't completely detract from the smile that breaks out across his face. "Flattery won't get you anywhere."

"I already got there, didn't I?" Scott runs his index finger down the middle of Derek's pecs, making Derek's skin break out in gooseflesh – he's still sensitive too, and Scott knows it. Whether or not he acts on it any further tonight remains to be seen.

"Just turn on the water." Derek kisses him and reaches for the chain plug to stop the drain.

" _Fine_." Scott kisses Derek again, lingering long enough to make sure Derek's not going to go anywhere in the time it's going to take to turn around and let the tub fill.

Once the water's starting to steam up the bathroom, Derek puts his arms around Scott and pulls him back against his body, his legs spread so that Scott can be comfortable. He kisses Scott's neck once he's settled, three day stubble scraping against Scott's sex-pink flushed skin.

"That tickles," Scott says, making absolutely no effort to pull away.

"You taste as good as you smell – can't help it." Derek rubs Scott's stomach, deliberately not dipping below his navel.

"About that – what's with the whole scent thing and not showering?"

"I like it. You smell… wild, natural."

"I think 'rank' is the word you're looking for, babe." Scott's starting to feel even heavier with drowsiness now, between Derek's deep voice soft in his ear and the hot water.

"Hey, it turns me on. I don't get off on three day unwashed odor but sweat and adrenaline? Yeah."

Scott turns his head and kisses Derek, the tip of his tongue just barely touching his lips before he pulls it away. "Then we're definitely going to have to fuck after we go running through the woods. Don't think we've done that yet."

"It's on my list – but not right now." Derek reaches for the bar of soap sitting on the sill next to the tub and starts to lather it up. "Right now – you're going to sit back and let me wash you."

Scott slurs a "yes sir" and rests his head against Derek's very comfy shoulder to let him work.

Derek willingly admits to himself that he _loves_ doing this – taking care of Scott. Scott tries his hardest to do the same for Derek, even if Scott's not exactly in a position right at this point in life to be able to do much more than just care for Derek on a physical and emotional level – the money and wellbeing that's attached to it will almost certainly come later.

But Scott cares deeply anyway, no matter his means.

Not only as an Alpha to his Omega, but as a companion. A lover. A friend. That's part of what Derek absolutely cherishes about their relationship; Scott doesn't just treat Derek as his mate – he tries to go out of his way to be his friend as well. It's nothing like what Scott has with Stiles – that's something that can never be replaced, not matter how jealous it makes Derek at times. But Scott does make the effort.

Whenever Scott speaks or spends time with him, Derek – especially more recently – has come to realize Scott's not after just sex. Sure, the sex is wonderful and is only going to improve with time – Derek has no doubt of that – but when it's over, Derek doesn't really want Scott to go. He wants to be in his presence, listen to his voice, hell even learn from him. Scott's got way too much good in him, and he shares that, whether he's conscious of it or not.

"Derek?"

Derek shakes his head, his thoughts interrupted by the sleepy drawl of Scott's voice.

"Hm?"

"You've been washing the same spot for like, five minutes now." Derek's hands are roaming around his navel, the soap long gone from the cloth Derek's using. White foam floats around Scott's kneecaps, serving no purpose now that it's no longer being used to wash Scott's skin.

"Sorry," Derek kisses into the side of Scott's head. He finds the bar of Irish Spring again and starts on Scott's upper back and shoulders.

Scott lapses into silence again, just barely staying awake. Derek listens to the slow thud of his heartbeat, untroubled, content. Derek doesn't really know how it's possible, but even Scott's pulse is expressive. Maybe the ventricles have dimples too, great big ones that light up whenever he's happy.

Derek has to shake his head to clear the notion of asking from the tip of his tongue.

Right as Derek thinks Scott's about to fall asleep while washing his arms, Scott tilts his head back and tries his hardest to look Derek right in the eye. His eyes are so dark that the irises are nearly black, half open with pleasant exhaustion.

Derek can't help but smile at him.

"C'mere," Scott whispers. It's an invitation, not a command – but Derek moves instinctively towards his mouth anyway.

It's one of those kisses that causes Derek to feel a nostalgia he's only ever felt watching Golden Age of Hollywood films; it's a sepia and black and white feeling, comfortable, familiar, like at the end when Scott pulls away he's only going to feel happier for experiencing it. There's no tongue, just simple warmth and affection. It's appreciative, "thank you" and "I love you" pulled into a few careful movements, time slowing down for a few blissfully stretched seconds until Scott settles more into Derek's embrace and shuts his eyes.

So they don't make it out of the tub until the water's below lukewarm, and that's okay.

Scott's not that heavy to carry.

Derek is not one of those people who takes waking up for granted – it means he slept, and some days that sort of rest is a precious commodity.

What he enjoys most of all is being _drawn_ out of his slumber.

It's not often that it's so literal – but he awakens to gentle patterns being drawn into his back. For a few minutes he holds himself half awake, enjoying the sensation of Scott's soft touch against his skin. Scott has warm hands, not even the cool weather being able to rob him of that property. Even though Scott's just using a finger, it still make Derek's body feel like there's a whole other set of blankets shrouding him.

Scott's not doing anything in particular – simply going in nonsense loops, figure eights, tracing the perimeter of Derek's back. He travels up and over the muscles of Derek's back, follows his triskelion tattoo from one end to the other, back to front and front to back, then straight down to the small of his back where Derek's lower body remains covered.

It's so simple and intimate that Derek, for a moment, thinks that he's dreaming.

His peace is lovingly shattered when Scott leans over and kisses his naked right shoulder.

"I know you're awake, Derek," he coos, shuffling closer so that the sleep-warm line of his torso is pressed against Derek's side.

Derek hugs his pillow, turning his face so that he's buried in it – he doesn't really want Scott to cease making invisible art on his back. "I was enjoying that."

Scott chuffs a laugh, then lays his head down next to Derek's. Derek will take Scott breathing right in his ear since he's resumed dancing his finger across the surface of his skin. "I know. Just wanted to see your face."

Derek turns his head, letting Scott see one half-opened eye. "There."

Scott sticks his bottom lip out, making a pout so exaggerated that Derek's tempted to lean up and bite it. "More than that, c'mon. I don't get to wake up next to you every day, I want to see your pretty face."

Derek quirks his one visible eyebrow. "I believe the word you're looking for is 'rugged,' Scott."  
" _Fine_ – I want to see your _rugged_ face." Scott lays five fingers on his spine and starts gently drumming out what suspiciously feels like "The Lazy Song."

Derek gives him three quarters of his face and purses his lips for a kiss – Scott does at least deserve that much.

"There you are," Scott says with a smile as bright as the sunrise. He dives in and cups Derek's face, wedging himself down so that Derek's forced to lay over on his side and put his arms around Scott. It's not bad or anything just… Derek was very, very comfortable where he was and now he's got an armful of happy, already too much energy for this time of morning Alpha.

Derek doesn't feel as jostled when he gets his first taste of Scott's tongue for the day, a little dry but soon rectified as he maps out the inside of Derek's mouth. Derek supposes Scott's making sure all of teeth are still there with his tongue, given how thoroughly he's being kissed. Derek's cock definitely likes it, swelling against Scott's hip and starting to leak precome within ten seconds of reaching full mast.

Scott smiles, and Derek knows without looking that it's absolutely nothing but mischievous intent written on his face.

Not that Derek minds, of course.

Scott's hands come off of Derek's back, nails dragging goosebumps in their wake as he slides them over Derek's flanks, both coming to rest on his chest. Derek doesn't breathe, sucking on his lip as Scott starts to kiss his neck and tug at his nipples, Derek having put his piercings back in after he'd washed up last night.

"Scott…" Derek moans, his brain short circuiting. He tries to will his body to action, aiming to reciprocate but mostly ending up holding onto Scott's biceps.

Scott sucks a mark into the joint of Derek's neck and shoulder, splotchy and purple and likely to be gone in fifteen minutes. Derek tilts his head back, waiting, trying to anticipate, only to be thrown off as Scott stops teasing his right nipple to drop his hand and lazily jerk Derek off.

Derek doesn't get the chance to say anything, his mouth full of Scott's tongue again, letting Scott guide his hand down to stroke his own leaking dick. There's a small puddle of precome staining Derek's new sheets already, vaguely sweet smelling. It makes Derek's hole start to leak, unable to help himself as Scott shifts to where he can cover both his and Derek's cock heads with one hand, letting Derek reach back to finger himself.

"Want to come on your dick, babe," Scott whispers, playing with Derek's long, loose foreskin – Derek just nods, the decision practically made for him before the words had even finished leaving Scott's mouth.

Scott giving him his knot had been an enormous step forwards – signed, sealed, delivered, Derek was his for life. Docking though, that's something different. Derek considers it to be incredibly intimate, something he has to be face to face for. Maybe it's just that they're both so sensitive physically when it comes to docking or maybe, just maybe it's because they realize it's something they can't really do with anyone else – but it quiets Derek's soul, to feel that warmth as Scott pushes the head of his dick in next to his own. They breathe each other's air, lips held a millimeter apart, heartbeats thudding like kettledrums together.

"Easy, babe," Derek says, his left arm around Scott's neck and shoulders – literally holding on so that he doesn't fly away.

"I've got you Derek, I've got you." It's uttered like a platitude towards heaven, then hushed as Scott gives Derek another slow-burn kiss, spelling out unsaid praise into his mouth. Scott's working on pure feeling, his senses overwhelmed by the sensation of Derek's body connected with his, the heady aroma of Derek's slick, the sound of wet lips moving against each other – it fuels, burns, carries both of them like a rocket ship making for the stars.

Derek, for a few seconds anyway, feels like he's left his own body, his fingers curled hard inside his body against his prostate – it's the most blissful sort of assault, Scott reducing him to raw perception with the rough-soft of his own palm and fingers. He's jerking both of them off like he does himself, tight, slow, savoring every single flare of feeling that goes shooting up and through his body. Derek makes a point to watch Scott get himself off at some point in the near future, wanting to watch every single movement of his face and hands as he does.

"Derek, fuck, _Derek_ , I'm gonna come" – half of those precious syllables are silent, Scott so lost in the this temporary heaven he's helped to create that he can't muster the will to speak any more clearly – Derek's fine with that.

"Come on Scott, come for me – " and then he does, Derek catching a flash of Alpha red eyes as Scott bites Derek's shoulder, spurt after spurt of semen coating both he and Derek's dick. Derek's hot on his heels, ignoring the sudden bloom of blood that runs over his skin and onto the bed. Derek fucks his fingers in and out as fast as he can, shaking so hard that Scott's knot may as well be balls deep inside him. He has to fall back so he doesn't pass out, his fingers still in his ass as he rides out the aftershocks of his orgasm. Scott ends up more or less on top of Derek, jerking them together until they've stopped and are laying coated in each other's bodily fluids.

"Sorry," Scott mumbles, brushing the teeth marks now decorating Derek's skin. He palpates the wound gently, not quite able to lift his head yet.

"Don't be." Derek's staring at the ceiling, his breathing still on its way to leveling out. He listens for Scott's heartbeat, making himself calm by listening to the deep resonance of it.

"Um- good morning, by the way." Derek can hear the satiation in Scott's voice – it's not complete, but they should at least be able to make it through breakfast without jumping each other again.

Derek's chest rumbles with a laugh, finally taking his fingers out of his ass as he pulls Scott into a hug. He's tempted to let Scott lick them clean but there's no need to kick themselves back into gear quite yet.

"Good morning," comes the reply, Derek's voice sounding halfway fucked out. It raises the hairs on the back of Scott's neck.

"Do you want me to get up this time, or you?" Scott's resumed drawing on Derek's chest with his finger, circling his nipple but never actually touching it. Derek listens to the sound of his own chest hair scritching against his mate's flesh, not quite ready to make that decision.

"Why don't we go together in like, a day. I'm comfy where I am."

"No, you're sticky – and bleeding."

Derek shrugs. "Worth it."

Scott nuzzles Derek's sternum and manages to lodge himself right under his neck. "So, I don't know how much this offer is worth but I will absolutely help you make some breakfast." Scott's stomach rumbles so loudly that Derek feels the vibration against his own skin.

It's a test of will that keeps Derek from laughing at the absurd sound. "I don't really think there's much you can do save for sit in the kitchen and keep me company."

Scott kisses Derek's collarbone before he rolls over on his back to reach for something to clean up with.

"It's a deal."

They end up using Derek's underwear from the day before as a rag (it's not like it's the first time but still – _that's Emporio Armani briefs_ Scott's using) before Derek at least gets dressed. He forgoes underwear for the time being, settling for just gym shorts and a t-shirt; should he need more later, he can deal with that situation as it comes up. Scott opts to remain as nature intended until he can get his own clothes out of Derek's car – all of Derek's clothes are just too big to be comfortable on Scott.

Watching Scott's naked ass as they go downstairs, however, is a treat. It's pure muscle memory that keeps Derek from faceplanting as they descend.

Before the fire, the Hale huose kitchen had been functional to the utmost degree, no fancy machinery, no particular aesthetic going for it aside from "a lot of people live here and they eat a lot of food." Derek had changed that, and now a Keurig sits next to the coffee pot, there's a tile splashboard behind the stove and the countertops are black granite, so shiny that Derek can indeed see his reflection in them.

It was best he redo it with fewer traces of life past than retaining them – far too many memories here to try and hold back.

Scott stretches languidly once he's leaning against a counter, every muscle in his torso being pulled tight as he reaches for the sky, watching Derek jam his feet into his running shoes so that he can go out to the car. "I can at least start getting ingredients out for something."

Derek doesn't respond right away, still caught up on just how wonderful Scott's abs look first thing in the morning. To say wonderful is a grand understatement.

"Derek?"

Derek's eyes finally flit up to meet Scott's still sleepy gaze. "Hm?"  
"I said I could start getting out ingredients while you go out to the car." Like it's going to move Derek along faster, he crosses his hands in front of his junk to keep it from easy viewing. Not an easy task, but at least Derek won't be _as_ distracted.

Derek just nods, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth as he does and licking across it. He doesn't really take his eyes off of Scott as he leaves the kitchen, Scott's head tilted curiously back at him, brown eyes wide with amusement and comfortable warmth. Derek doesn't even realize he's smiling until he's almost out on the front porch and walking towards the Camaro.

What's that song about having it bad and that ain't good?

Scott's lacrosse bag is already starting to emanate a pungent smell, the zipper not done up all the way around and letting its fragrant innards out. Derek doesn't exactly back away, because in that sweat and grime is still Scott, masculine and powerful. He lifts Scott's book bag out first, light of schoolbooks. Slinging it over his shoulder he hefts the lacrosse bag up next, carrying it low to the ground and letting the gentle morning breeze blow its scent behind and away from him; he's indulged that kink enough for a couple days.

Scott's sitting at the table when Derek comes back, one claw extended as he peels an apple by rotating it in his other hand. Juice runs down his finger and drips off his wrist; Derek has a ton left over from making cider and Scott's welcome to all that he wants.

Derek drops the contents of his hands just outside the kitchen entryway towards the living room. "Feel free to take some home if you want – no way I can eat them all."

Scott's reply is a noisy bite of honeycrisp apple. Derek isn't entirely sure how Scott manages to chew happily, but he does.

Derek walks by on his way to the cupboard above the sink and runs his fingers through Scott's hair along the way, ending up with Scott nuzzling his wrist by the time he's stepped out of reach. It's almost downy soft, washed thoroughly last night as Scott had lain half asleep against his shoulder. The faint scent of artificial coconut lingers for a moment as Scott's hair falls back into place, Derek having to negotiate with his wolf's strong-for-the-morning desire to be with his Alpha.

 _Later_ , he tells himself.

"I was thinking about waffles," Scott announces. "With some of the cider you made." Scott's up and approaching Derek from behind, the chair scraping against the floor with a quiet squeak as he pushes it back under the table.

"Waffles?" Derek parrots back. "Belgian?"

"French, German –whatever's your specialty, babe." Scott's nuzzling at the back of Derek's neck now, still very much naked. Derek knows it's just reflex to grind back against Scott's soft dick – the natural curve of Scott's body complements Derek's to near perfection – but at the same time the baser parts of him _really_ want Scott to knot him over the countertop and see if they are indeed "guaranteed to clean up after everything."

"I'd say you've been spending too much time with Stiles, but…" Derek is at least slightly amused by the joke.

"I don't think there's any such thing. He claims I didn't have a sense of humor until I met him." Scott kisses the sensitive place right between Derek's shoulder blades and makes him shiver down to his toes. "But I don't think four year olds really have one."

Derek says nothing, his eyes shut as Scott's fingers make trails over the front of his torso. He feels the slow burn of lust start to flicker in his gut, between the lingering smell of sex from a while ago still on both of them and Scott's presence in general – he's starting to think his plans for the weekend may be just this side of foiled.

"How about those waffles now?"

It's a good save.

Right?

Scott unsticks himself from Derek's back, turning Derek around and then reapplying himself to Derek's front. He's got both hands on Derek's face before Derek even has the chance to register – and then his mouth is bursting with the taste of apples and Scott, both sweet in completely different ways. The way Scott holds Derek's jaw so that he can literally spell "good morning" against the roof and tongue of Derek's mouth is so far up the unfair spectrum that Derek doesn't even care if he melts like butter right there on the kitchen floor.

Derek's out of breath by the time Scott pulls away, not even trying to hide his arousal. "Okay – where in the _hell_ did you learn to do _that_?" Derek certainly can't recall a time that teenagers pulled moves like that – that's porn star level foreplay.

Scott's look suddenly turns shy, looking down at Derek's chest as he straightens his t-shirt. "I looked up some tips and really liked that one."

"Tips? What kind of tips?" Derek doesn't want to ask if Scott read Cosmopolitan but the thought crosses his mind.

"Just... some stuff online. Stiles told me about it." Scott's moving across the kitchen now to where his book bag is resting just outside the door.

Derek turns around, watching Scott bend over to unzip his bag. He gets a really nice eyeful off Scott's ass and if he looks hard enough his hole as well.

He latches onto the counter to stop himself from going over and eating Scott out until his knees have imprints from the floor.

"Do you really think sex advice from Stiles is the best idea in the world?" Derek sneaks a hand down the back of his pants as he watches Scott slide worn to the point of just right cotton blue boxers up his legs – yep, he's wet. He also knows that Scott knows that, he's just not acting upon it.

Scott gives a shrug of his ever broadening shoulders as he pulls his jeans up. "Stiles and I have always relied on each other for that sort of thing – that and he's dating Danny. Danny's kind of the expert here and as much as I miss him, it's been a good thing." Scott turns around as he pulls a black t-shirt over his head, one Derek recognizes. It's one that became too small for him and Scott had insisted on taking. Great, now Scott's wearing his old clothes (even if it is the only thing of Derek's that he can wear comfortably.)

Derek swallows and starts to get out his waffle iron. "You know, I've been around the block a few times. It's okay to ask me about that sort of thing." Why the hell Derek feels the nasty twinge of jealousy about Scott taking sex advice from friends he's known since elementary school doesn't make him feel proud.

Scott sits back down at the table and starts to work on finishing his abandoned apple. "I know. I'm… I'm still new to this, Derek. You're the first guy I've ever dated."

The sudden, slight slump of Derek's shoulders at the word "dated" sends Scott backpedaling.

"It's more than just dating, I know – but it's still scary." Scott looks down at the table, wishing he'd put on socks before he'd sat down.

Derek stops making batter and turns to face Scott, putting his hands in his pockets and studying the still shiny floor. "What's scary about it?" This isn't exactly a conversation they've had – the part where Derek knows what he's after and has a lot more knowledge about intimate relationships and Scott's still nascent to a lot of things, wolf or not.

Scott puts the apple down and wipes his hands on a napkin, not saying anything else until he's torn half of it to shreds. "Derek, can you sit down, please?"

Derek sits at the head of the table.

There's a long moment of simply looking at each other, Derek's fingers barely taken in Scott's as Scott rubs his thumb over his knuckles. It's more a gesture for Scott than anyone else, screwing up his courage. Even then he's hard to hear once he starts to speak.

"You know, on top of this whole wolf thing – which is like being chained to a comet, honestly, because it's just… it's really hard to get a hold of – Derek I don't know what I'm doing with you."

Scott's naked honesty nearly makes Derek's heart stop.

"What do you mean?"

Scott sighs, then looks up at Derek with earnest confusion. "Derek, I'm still a kid and you're… _you_." Scott looks as though that's some sort of great offense, not only to Derek but to the world at large.

Derek decides to interject before Scott manages to beat himself down any further. "Listen, Scott – and I mean _really_ listen." Derek's not yet got a handle on what he wants to say but fuck it, the right words will come out in some semblance of order. "That's part of what being mated is about. You figure it out, you grow on each other, you grow with each other." Derek moves closer to Scott, getting on his knees between Scott's legs.

"Scott, this isn't something that can be just looked at in terms of pure experience – mating doesn't work like that. It's so much more… emotional, mental." Derek tilts Scott's head up where he's looking away from his eyes. "And trust me, the physical aspects of our relationship are only going to get better with time."

Scott doesn't exactly look reassured.

"That doesn't mean they're bad now, babe. At all." Derek kisses him on the mouth, chaste but wet enough to let Scott know he's nothing but serious. Scott's stiff for a moment, then relaxes as Derek takes his hands. Of course Scott doesn't believe him fully – Derek knows the feeling, that uncertainty. Hell, Derek's wondering how exactly it was they ended up here in the first place. That initial time of being aware of the other's existence wasn't exactly friendly but somewhere along the way, it changed.

There's truthfully not much Derek can think of that he'd go back and redo, if he knew that the outcome would be the same.

' Scott puts his arms around Derek's shoulders and pulls him to his neck, his nose buried in Derek's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, I swear." Derek rubs Scott's back, putting his hand under his shirt and letting the roughish pads of his fingers play Scott's vertebrae like a lullaby. Scott doesn't let go for a good while, breakfast temporarily forgotten. Derek knows that the role of Omega is to support and protect his Alpha – this is one of those times. It's definitely tougher than keeping him physically well – any wolf can lash out with claws and slash a throat or two.

Then again, this is more a teenager who's seen a lot of awful shit in the last year or so of his life than most, and all he's seeking is some validation from his significant other.

"One day, Scott," Derek continues, "we're going to have a pack, and it's going to be incredible – and it starts with you. I'd say that it's already in really good hands."

Scott's not crying, truly – but he looks relieved. Even if it's not permanent, it's still better than seeing him look lost.

"Thanks, Derek," Scott whispers. He sits back and keeps his hands on Derek's biceps, looking at the morning stubble dappling his cheeks. He opens his mouth like he's going to say something, then closes it, repeating the same motion a couple more times before he decides on what exactly it is he wants to say.

"This is gonna sound really fucking weird right now but… can I shave you later?" It's as sincere as Derek's ever heard him sound and hell, it's a lot easier of a question to get around right now than any lingering doubts Scott may have about being bad in bed. He's sure this conversation isn't over – but Derek's going to answer any questions Scott may have, period.

"I hope you're talking about my face – no offense but I like to do my own manscaping." Derek laughs, kissing Scott's palm as his fingers brush his cheek.

Scott rises from his chair, taking Derek with him. They're almost nose to nose, Derek just a couple inches taller but it doesn't impede Scott in the least from kissing him again. Scott still tastes like apples and morning sunshine. "Don't think you have to worry about that, Derek – I don't trust myself with a razor around my junk."

"I could always do it for you," Derek suggests – not that he has a problem with Scott's pubes. They're really very lovely and Derek will bury his nose in them while he deep throats Scott.

That actually doesn't sound like a terrible idea, now that Derek gives it serious consideration.

"I wouldn't say no – but I want to shave your face. Later. Maybe tonight."

"Tonight would be good." Derek kisses Scott's chin. All this physical affection is making Derek even hungrier for it – but tonight it will have to be. There are things he needs Scott's help with in the meantime.

"It's a date." Scott picks up his apple and leads Derek over to the counter where his waffle iron still sits untouched. "Now – what can I do to help this process along?"

Saying _eating me out while I make the batter_ crosses Derek's mind – Scott's gotten scarily good at eating him out, and as wet as Derek is right now he's almost positive that Scott would do it.

"How about making the coffee?"

"Alright," Scott says, kissing Derek on the cheek before turning away. Derek sneaks a glance at Scott's crotch to see if he's hard and nope, no abnormal bulges or any indication at all that Scott's turned on.

Derek's okay with being the only hopeless one for now.

Scott pours two generous scoops into the coffee maker, then holds his tongue between his lips as he fills up the carafe and adds it to the mix. Soon enough, the Black and Decker-made pot is gurgling away with its happy task, the aroma of Gevalia Espresso Roast filling the kitchen. Scott watches it drip for a few moments before he turns back to Derek.

"So I was thinking about something the other day," Scott says. "I'm gonna be eighteen soon."

Derek's stirring of his batter slows a bit, listening to Scott with intent. "Yeah?"

"And Mom said that when I'm eighteen, if I want, I could probably stay with you full time once school's out."

Derek stops mixing batter altogether. "I'm listening."

Scott jumps up on an empty section of counter and seats himself, crossing his bare feet as he continues. "You said we need to build our pack more – and don't you think that staying with each other in a more long term way would help with that? I mean, it's nice seeing you on the weekends and all but Derek, we need to see how we _live_ together." Scott reaches out for Derek, taking his hand once Derek's set his mixing bowl aside.

"I know our pack has to be strong, but you said earlier it has to start with us. I think that would be the best way." Scott's look of trepidation seems misplaced – there's truly not much that's hidden between them anymore.

Scott keeps going, Derek's face neutral. "I know you value your privacy. I also know that you don't mind sharing it." Scott kisses Derek's jaw, hooking his ankles in the small of Derek's back. "Especially with me."

Derek nods, unfairly swayed by the way Scott's fingers are skittering up and down his back. "No, I don't mind."

"You don't have to answer right away. It's still a while before we have to think too hard about it."

Derek takes Scott's hands in his and rubs his fingers over every knuckle, slowly and tenderly. "Why don't we eat breakfast now?"

Derek hates that answer - but the thought of Scott in the same house as him around the clock is an idea that he's not really allowed himself to consider that hard. There's a whole host of issues, first and foremost that Scott's still a minor in the meantime and someone is bound to say something.

No matter how badly he'd love to wake up every morning next to Scott.

Scott does a valiant job of not looking crestfallen, just gives Derek a chaste kiss. He's gotten better at controlling his emotions, no longer quite as explosive – but the let down in his eyes is evident.

"Alright," Scott concedes. He gets down off the counter and goes back to his book bag, looking for socks. Derek watches him wriggle his toes once he's got them on, stretching the fabric where they'd been balled up.

Derek turns away as Scott picks up another apple and starts to eat it, peel and all. "I'm working on waffles, you know."

"And I've came my brains out twice in the last twelve hours – I'm hungry." Scott says all of this around a mouthful of apple that seems to be disappearing very quickly.

"How many?"

"Hm?"

"How many waffles?" Derek pours the first round of batter into the iron and closes the lid.

Scott chews while he thinks, looking around the kitchen. "Four. Big ones." Scott's smile reassures Derek that for now, he's fine.

"Just four? I do have plans that involve strenuous work later."

"Oh?" Scott gets up again and joins Derek at the counter. The hand he places on the small of Derek's back is poised and ready to travel south in an instant.

"Not _that_ kind. Well… not right now anyway." Derek makes absolutely no attempt to move away, either. He likes having Scott's hands on him very, very much. Sure that's partly the Omega in him enjoying the presence of his Alpha - as he should – but mostly it's just Derek.

"Tell me more." Scott walks his fingers up Derek's spine and rubs his shoulders as Derek turns the waffle iron over.

Derek dips his head, feeling his muscles relax as Scott's fingers work the most unfair sort of magic on him. "Some house upkeep – still rebuilding in a few spots." It's been livable for the last three months but it still doesn't mean he's finished.

"Don't know how handy I am with a drill but I can try." Scott finally comes to rest his head on the back of Derek's neck, breathing in the sweet mix of comfortable arousal Derek's exuding.

"Aren't quite to the drilling stage yet – but there's plenty more to be done." Derek's not going to tell Scott what actually needs work until they're both full of waffles and coffee. Mostly because Derek _himself_ doesn't want to do this particular work – in the whole time he's been making the Hale house new again, he's yet to touch the basement. Not because he can't, but because maybe, just maybe, there's some psychological trauma he's not yet prepared to face like that.

Derek isn't afraid of ghosts, but he does know that the imprints of turned-to-ash bodies still linger on the walls of that place. He suppressed a cold shudder, instead pulling the first waffle out of the iron a second before it chimes to indicate it's finished.

Scott notices the sudden tense of Derek's shoulders and resumes rubbing his back, warm and calming. He's still sensitive from earlier, and Scott's tenderness goes a long way towards making him feel better.

"Well, whatever it is – I'll try my best to help you."

Derek really doesn't deserve Scott most days.

Breakfast is eaten with only the sound of the birds tuning up for the day outside in a chorus of tweets and whistles and Scott making short work of his stack of waffles – they're gone within ten minutes. Derek sips his coffee slowly, enjoying the sight of Scott destroying his food – he's not offended that Scott eats so quickly. It occurs to him that he's not had anything since before his game yesterday, and Derek offers to make more.

Scott shakes his head, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "No thanks, Derek – can't be too sluggish today, can I?"

Derek crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair. His feet find Scott's under the table and he rubs the inside of Scott's ankle with the big toe of his left foot. "Don't really think that being sluggish is a bad thing, necessarily – unless you just need to mix concrete fast."

"Mix concrete?"

"Yeah – I'm reflooring the basement today. Boring work, needed the company while I did it." Derek avoids Scott's eyes so that he doesn't see that he's actually more than hesitant to go down there by himself.

"And here I was looking forward to a weekend of movies and sex." Scott projects mock sadness so well that Derek almost believes it's real.

"Well, we did do _one_ of those things."

"Twice."

"Does docking really count as sex?"

Scott shrugs, then gets up to take his plate to the dishwasher. "Did you come?"

"Why am I answering obvious questions?"

"Because I like the sound of your voice." Scott turns around and leans against the counter, body held in invitation should Derek choose to get up and join him. "And I don't get to hear it often enough."

The sincerity is going to kill Derek before anything else, truly.

Derek's starting to smile unconsciously a lot more these days, more so ever since Scott McCall came barreling into his life. "Well later I can read the dictionary to you, if you want. Lots of words there."

"I prefer the latest Captain American comic but I guess I'll take what I can get." Scott shoves his hands in his pockets and hoods his eyes, looking the perfect picture of satiation. Derek almost doesn't want to make him work, so long as Scott continues to look so blissful.

"I'll see what I can do," Derek promises. "Um… I need to go change." Derek places his plate in the dishwasher next to Scott and right as he turns away he's pulled backwards, Scott spinning him so that they're face to face right as Derek completes the turn. There's another kiss, a long one, involving Scott's hands being bunched in Derek's shirt and a lot of tongue, making Derek more horny than he already was – why the hell Scott keeps teasing is beyond him, especially since he's making absolutely zero attempt to touch Derek anywhere below his chest.

Derek doesn't even realize Scott's fingers have moved to his hair until he pulls back for a breath, his head and neck cradled like porcelain in Scott's fingers. He strokes him softly, holding his gaze through half-closed eyes and making no effort to push Derek away. This is what gets Derek the most, the way Scott's so gentle with him until Derek asks otherwise – not a lot of people have accorded him tenderness in life, and Scott gives of it so freely that Derek almost finds it alarming.

"Souvenir for the road," Scott whispers, each word a warm puff of air against Derek's now damp lips. He's running five fingers over the back of Derek's scalp over and over again, like he's reassuring himself of Derek's tangibility.

Derek's wolf huffs contentedly, quietly insisting that instead of dealing with ghosts that aren't really ghosts and laying down a new floor he go and pull Scott over him like a blanket for an eternity.

Sometimes the bastard has wonderful ideas, even if Derek has things he absolutely swears have to be done.

Scott rumbles back, a deep sound right out of his chest, telling Derek's wolf to leave him alone and let him decide what he wants.

"Did we just…" Scott begins, his brow furrowed in surprise at the unspoken conversation that just happened.

"Yeah, we did. You get better at it with age, trust me. Helps when you're trying to be quiet." Derek moves so that he's standing more or less straight up, causing Scott's hands to fall to his shoulders.

"Still weird – uh, you can go change now." Scott takes his hands off of Derek like he's embarrassed and sorry at the same time.

Derek does cup his jaw before he steps away, telling him "no need to look sad about it, babe – it's just how it works."

Scott nods, then gently pushes Derek towards the stairs.

Up in his bedroom Derek keeps the t-shirt, walking around naked from the waist down to the bathroom. He's wetter than he first suspected and he has to be careful to not finger himself against the sink as he cleans up – it's tough enough just being around Scott, much less being pressed up against his body. Derek can't really say whether or not their relationship will grow less physical as time goes on – he's known mated couples that were still going at each other like teenagers fifteen years later.

To say it makes him hopeful would be an understatement.

Pointedly shifting his thoughts to construction and not how ridiculously soft his mate's lips are, he finds a pair of boxers that he's confident won't rip when he bends over (his ass has gotten bigger over the last month courtesy of an intensive squat routine) and jeans so stained with work that they retain only memories of their former denim glory.

"Looks like I missed the good parts." Derek looks up right as he's pulling his socks on, Scott standing in the doorway with his shoes on his feet and slight disappointment on his face.

"Like you don't know what my 'good parts' look like." Derek digs his boots out from under the bed and puts them on. "Can't work naked, too dangerous for that."

"Sure you can." Scott steps into the bedroom and sits down next to Derek on the bed. "Sometimes when Mom's not home I walk around naked, especially during the summer."

Derek's memory flashes back to Scott's proposition from earlier and feels his dick twitch. "Too cold for that now."

"Not if you have someone to keep you warm." Scott kisses Derek's shoulder and stands up, stretching his arms above his head so that his shirt rides up and Derek's presented with a dark line of treasure trail and the waistband of Scott's underwear riding a little too low.

"Well, stick around here from June to September and you'll get what you wish for." Derek gets up too and tilts his head towards the stairs. "Shall we?"

Derek feels brave – mostly. He's had the mixer and concrete down here for a week now and even then it'd taken two days to move everything – he just can't spend a lot of time down here before he starts to hear his family's screams. He starts to lose his nerve as he opens the door, crooked on its hinges and blackened on its backside. The lights _mostly_ work down here; Derek honestly prefers just one set on, nearer the door, so that he doesn't have to be against the wall his siblings and parents died on.

It's not until Scott taps him on the shoulder that Derek realizes he's not moved.

"Everything alright, Derek?"

Derek barely nods before stepping forward. "Yeah."

Swallowing his fear, he turns on all the lights – he has to, given that the floor will start at the far side and then move towards the door as they go along to redo it. He's already gotten the foundation marked out and ready – a contractor with far more nerve than he and not a question to ask had gotten him that far. Derek hadn't even minded the invasion of his privacy, seeing as it saved him from what probably would have amounted to a solid month of nightmares.

Scott slips his fingers into Derek's right hand and pulls him toward where the bags of cement lay piled like a stony promise of moving forward. "C'mon – let's get busy."

Derek just nods again and hands Scott safety goggles and a breath mask.

Mixing the concrete doesn't take long, but Derek still starts to feel antsy within five minutes of its preparation – not even the sight of Scott's arms and body working as he pours dry concrete into the mixer is enough to overcome it. Scott sticks close, not only to learn but to also keep an eye on Derek – the wary look in his eyes isn't fooling anyone, least of all Scott. Scott knows what PTSD looks like, and Derek's got at least a mild case. Being down here certainly isn't helping.

"Derek, I can do most of this if there's something else you need to do – I've helped Stiles' dad pour concrete lots of times." Scott's fudging just a little bit but not enough to where Derek can tell he's lying.

Derek's gripping his smoothing trowel like death, eyes locked on the burned blood that covers that far wall. Going near it is sounding more and more like a bad idea, almost able to pick out whom died where. It makes his stomach churn, acid burning at the back of his throat as he catches a whiff of charred flesh, still too strong, still too near, and-

"Derek, come on." Scott pulls him towards the door, slamming it shut behind him and bringing Derek down to the floor with him.

"Derek, _breathe._ " Scott takes the trowel out of Derek's hands and rubs his back, Derek sucking down breath so fast it nearly makes him sick.

So much for being mostly over it.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Scott. Though I was gonna handle it better than that."

"Derek, it's not your fault." Scott speaks with the quiet authority of someone who's been through trauma, pain, suffering – it still doesn't make Derek feel any better.

Derek takes off his goggles and wipes his eyes, the back of his hand coming away wet with tears he hadn't even realized were there. It takes a lot to hold himself together, eyes screwed shut as he digs the heel of his hand into the space between his eyes. Scott keeps his arm around his shoulders, pulled in close to his body as he waits for Derek to calm further.

There's not much that can be said, honestly – Derek's heard a lot of platitudes, both empty and sincere. It never really hurts any less, either. He can feel it though, the urge from Scott to say _something_.

And yet, Scott remains silent.

Derek collects himself and looks up, his breath mask pulled down around his chin and neck now. Scott keeps his head against his shoulder, both listening to the steady whir of the mixer behind the door.

"Think we should turn that off, yeah?" Scott doesn't move until he feels Derek start to stand as well.

"Can't until it's done or the concrete will start to set. Don't want to buy it, either, that's an expensive piece of equipment." Derek places his hand on the door and starts to push it open, only for Scott to place his hand on his wrist.

"I'll go first this time."

Derek doesn't argue.

The lights are still on, the outlines of the bodies are still there, and the air still holds the same musty, smoky smell. Derek's a little more prepared now, especially with Scott out in front. He feels pathetic, having his mate take point for his wretched past.

What was that he'd told Scott earlier about being mated and how it's about an emotional connection above everything?

Scott's hand is still in his as they make their way back to the mixer, its task nearly finished. Derek winds the barrel down, keeping it at the minimum spin.

"Think we're ready to pour – can you help me?" Derek grabs one side and indicates with his shoulder to the far wall, swallowing against his trepidation. He's not going to crumble a second time, no matter what.

"Of course, Derek." Scott gives the machine a solid push, and grabs a shovel as well. Derek's trauma is temporarily succeeded by the site of Scott's bicep bulging as he pushes the mixer with one hand, acting like its weight is of no significance as he helps wheel it across the room.

The size of the mixer allows the whole section near the wall to be covered in just one trip, which Derek is thankful for. The skill with which Scott immediately begins to spread the concrete out, working quickly and efficiently, is astounding – Derek can't do it that quickly himself. He remains where he stands, no longer gazing at the wall behind him but at Scott's hands.

Scott's quick work has the entire section of floor laid over with concrete within half an hour – and once he's finished, Derek's still there, mouth hanging slightly open at what he just saw.

Scott has nothing more to say for himself than a sheepish grin.

"So," Scott says as he walks back towards Derek "how long does it take to dry?"

Derek's still gazing at wet, smooth concrete as Scott trades over his smoothing trowel to his other hand so that he can put his arm around Derek's waist.

"Derek?"

"Oh – sorry. Um, about a day, maybe more. Uh… thank you." Derek knows why Scott did what he did – and now he can make the effort to at least keep his back turned to that wall.

Scott kisses Derek on the cheek and rubs his lower back, slipping his hand under his shirt to scritch his nails across the base of his spine. Derek's knees wobble, Scott holding him up as he gently turns them to face the mixer – the smell of concrete now permeates the air, wet and heavy.

Derek readjusts his breath mask as Scott starts to heft another bag. "Think I can actually be useful now."

"You do what you need to, babe – I'm here to help in any way I can, remember?"

Derek doesn't necessarily believe in fate or higher powers but he does send out a silent thank you to the universe for giving him Scott.

Scott hums while he works – some of the tunes Derek recognizes, some he doesn't. He listens anyway, joining in when he can, sometimes humming back and seeing if Scott picks up. Once Derek starts to hum and half-sing "Mack The Knife," Scott gives up.

"Okay, you've got me stumped," Scott says, laughing. Even with the goggles and breath mask Derek can still see him smile.

Derek snaps his fingers as he starts to ease the mixer towards the front wall, singing "Fancy gloves, though wears old MacHeath, babe, so there's never, never a trace of red" and doing a really fine impression of Sinatra.

So Derek loves standards and old jazz just as much as he does Scott – the music a man enjoys is his own damned business.

"I know you've heard this song." Derek starts to shovel out concrete and Scott joins him a second later, spreading it smooth.

"No – but I do know this one." Scott starts to hum and tap out "Louie Louie" on his leg, and keeps up the background as Derek cuts in with the lyrics.

Scott ends up nearly in tears as Derek's singing style ends up somewhere between Blondie and The Kingsmen – but it's very sweet how Derek replaces every incarnation of girl with "Scott." If Scott wasn't wearing a breath mask, he'd kiss the happy look right off of Derek's face.

Derek's breathless by the time he finishes, his surroundings forgotten as he puts his arms around Scott, both of them damp with the sweat of work and not a lot of moving air. Derek takes Scott by the hand and leads him out of the basement and towards the fresher air of the house proper.

Free of their masks and goggles, they end up in the kitchen, both drinking two bottles of water apiece in quick succession. Scott watches Derek throat work as he rehydrates, stepping forward and running his hand down Derek's body once Derek drains the second bottle almost dry.

"Why don't we go for that run now, babe?" Scott rests his fingers on Derek's belt buckle, already taking in Derek's naked body in his mind's eye.

Derek takes Scott's hand and kisses each knuckle, causing Scott to jump in surprise when he darts his tongue over the webbing of his middle three fingers.

"I think that's a great idea."

Derek strips so fast that Scott can't remember what he took off first, hanging his clothes over the back of a kitchen chair and encouraging Scott to do the same. Scott gets down to his underwear before he watches Derek slide his nipple piercings out, laying them on the table and then rubbing himself where they had been. The shudder of pleasure he gives makes his dick twitch, and suddenly the image of running through the woods all wolfed out is replaced by screwing over the counter while Scott tugs and pinches at Derek's chest.

"Come on Scott," Derek says, dark, thick hair starting to sprout from his arms and legs, "let's go."

Wolfing out mostly takes care of the boner that Scott's popped in the last twenty seconds.

Their toenails go clack clack clack across the hardwood floor to the back porch, Derek nosing the door open and then descending the steps with Scott close behind. Derek pauses for a moment at the bottom, admiring Scott's wolf. He's all grayish silver, almost shiny, and his soft red eyes make him look far more friendly than threatening, even though there's no denying the fact that Scott is perfectly capable of being deadly if he so chooses.

With a wag of his tail, Derek goes down on his front legs, grunting an invitation to give pursuit. Scott gives a tilt of his shaggy head, licking his muzzle as he watches Derek hop up and down on his forepaws, purely to confuse him. Right as Scott's about to join in, Derek takes off like a rocket, tearing through the brush in a haze of black fur and obnoxiously loud yips.

Derek spends half the time letting himself be caught and the other hiding from Scott, popping out at him from behind bushes, hopping from one rock to another, going through streams not so much to enjoy swimming (the water is near freezing) but more on an "I dare you" level – Scott simply jumps from one side to another and tackles Derek to the ground, licking his face and butting his head against the side of Derek's neck.

Derek growls, getting out from under Scott and taking off again, this time with Scott in hot pursuit. They zigzag through the woods, breaking tree limbs and kicking up dirt, Scott's tongue flopping in the wind as he attempts to get Derek's tail between his teeth. Derek stays just far enough out of reach, stopping short in a clearing so that Scott runs smack into him and in the process of tumbling, both shift back and end up in a pile of leaves, Scott's face buried in Derek's chest as they laugh until their cheeks are stained with tears.

Scott tucks in a little closer to Derek as the breeze picks up, the forest cool and dry around them. He nuzzles Derek's chest, arms wrapped tight around his body as Derek kisses the top of his head.

"I could have gotten your tail, you know," Scott murmurs. Derek hums in agreement, stroking the dip of Scott's spine.

"Next time you'll just have to try harder, won't you?" Derek's covered in sweat and Scott runs his fingers through the damp, fuzzy hair on Derek's abs, making Derek grunt pleasantly as he rolls Scott on top of him.

"Or I could just wait til your asleep," Scott says. Derek strokes Scott's sweaty bangs back, kissing each flushed cheek. Scott looks beautiful right now, pleasantly tired and happy.

"If your mouth is near my ass when I'm asleep it had better be to either eat me out or suck the poison out of a snake bite."

"I don't think it works that way." Scott sits up so that he's propped up on his elbows, cupping the top sides of Derek's head and running his palms over his hair. "And besides – don't you think you'd see a snake before it bit you?"

Derek smiles and pulls Scott in for a kiss. "Not with you in the bed with me." Scott smiles as Derek's lips brush his, their legs tangling together as the sun shifts a little lower in the sky and leaves tall shadows across their bodies.

Scott rolls off of Derek after a while and lays his head on Derek's left shoulder, tracing the letter "D" over Derek's sternum as he closes his eyes.

"So what are you gonna do with the basement?"

Derek is nearly asleep when Scott's question makes him open his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

Scott sits up on one elbow and scritches Derek's scruff. "I think that maybe you should do something new with it – was it just, you know, storage before?"

Derek doesn't say anything right away, just enjoys the feeling of Scott's fingers running over his jaw. "Yeah, it was. Family that big you run out of places to put things."

Scott nods. "What about a place to make cider? Could you do it there?"

Derek crooks his arm so that he's laying on the underside of his forearm, looking up at the sky through the decaying leaves of the trees above. "I haven't really thought that much about it – I don't spend a lot of time down there." As to why, he doesn't have to say.

"Yeah," Scott answers. He's got that "I want to help but I don't really know how" tone in his voice and Derek considers just rolling over and kissing him until Scott decides that maybe this isn't a conversation that needs to be had right now.

"Mom said that you have to keep moving forward, Derek." Scott barely whispers it, and Derek, wolf hearing or not, barely catches it. "After my dad left, we just… we didn't forget, but we didn't let it drag us down either – and I think that maybe you should make something new out of it. You don't deserve to be uncomfortable in your own house, babe."

The way that Scott cuts right through the crap without really meaning to, well… it's endearing yet the slightest bit grating. Derek knows his intentions are absolutely nothing but good – but Derek himself hasn't bothered to think that far ahead. He just wants to get himself to the point of being able to go down and walk across the floor without having a panic attack. Therapy could probably fix that, yes – but Derek would much rather take that out on running through the forest and pretending the problem doesn't exist.

"Derek?"

Another quiet whisper.

"Yeah, yeah," Derek replies, closing his eyes halfway against the waning sun. The breeze has picked up and it's this side of too cool on his skin, and he draws Scott closer across him. Scott goes without complaint, all naked, warm skin and a dreamy expression. His face and arms have darkened with lacrosse practice, each muscle a little more defined from the constant movement; it all emphasizes the quiet, youthful power of Scott's body. Derek traces around the curve of his deltoids, still not saying anything.

Scott doesn't call him out on the fact that he's stalling, because he's just that kind.

"Why don't we go home?" Derek tries to sit up and Scott moves off of him, remaining next to him as Derek starts to shift. He waits until Derek's all black fur and blue eyes, nuzzling Scott's leg to get him to follow.

Scott sighs heavily, unsatisfied with Derek's lack of a real answer. Reluctantly he shifts back to wolf form, taking off back to the house, following the swath of destruction they'd left through the brambles and bushes. Derek's hot on his heels the whole time, breath panting loudly.

With a skitter of toenails and clumsy paws on slick floor, they tumble through the front door in a fuzzy heap, snouts smacking into each other, boney joints and grunts of being discombobulated all coming together as they slide right on into the kitchen – Derek goes onto his side and back to avoid colliding with the cabinet and Scott goes splay legged on all fours as he catches against Derek's body and lands behind him.

Derek shifts back to human form, laughing so hard that he's holding his belly and crying as Scott picks up himself and the remains of his dignity to retrieve his clothes from where they were left near the back door.

"It's not funny," Scott grumbles, putting on his underwear and throwing Derek's jeans at him in the hope they hit his face. "Why are your floors slippery death traps?"

Derek gets his underwear from where it's stuffed into the back left pocket and fails three times at getting both his legs in, still laughing to the point of wheezing as he picks his ass up off the floor and slides it home. "I didn't say you had to come in at full speed."

Scott sticks his tongue out at him and pulls his shirt on, then goes to the cabinet and starts to look for something to eat, mocking Derek's words under his breath.

Derek stands up and leaves the rest of his clothes off, putting his arms around Scott from behind and nuzzling the back of his neck. "Why don't you sit down and I'll make us something to eat?"

Scott weighs his options, pretending that it's a hard decision to make as Derek kisses the nape of his sweaty neck and rubs his bulge against his ass. "For the record, I'm not _that_ easy."

Derek smells the acceptance and what Scott calls "comfy hormones" emanating from Scott's body, so yes, he is indeed that easy. "I believe you babe." Derek rubs Scott's belly and lets his fingers dip just past the waistband of his underwear.

Scott whimpers softly, reaching back to bring Derek's head around for a kiss. There's tongue before their lips even touch, and Scott tries to fit himself back against Derek like he's supposed to be there. Derek makes it easier for him, straightening up so that he can keep one arm around Scott's body and the other resting on the front of his pants; Scott's getting hard, all that adrenaline and time spent one on one in the woods making him randy; more so, Derek can practically taste the desire to submit for a while coming off of him.

Derek's smile against Scott's lips brightens considerably as an idea starts to germinate in his mind.

"Why don't," Derek says between kisses, "we try that thing I mentioned last night? About not being able to temporarily knot?"

Scott chews it over as he sucks on Derek's bottom lip, grabbing Derek's hand and guiding it down the loose, unbelted sag of his jeans. "I'm listening."

Derek keeps talking as he takes Scott's cock in hand, not stroking but massaging him. "It will – sexually at least – turn you into an Omega for a while. Self-lubrication, the sensitivity, everything."

Derek doesn't miss the way Scott's heartbeat accelerates when he says "self-lubrication."

"And it won't hurt me or anything?" Scott's on the verge of saying yes – but he needs to hear it from Derek's mouth before he agrees completely.

"Your body chemistry will be back to normal within twelve hours, maybe twenty four – you don't have to worry Scott. If you don't want to stay that way for long, I can give you just a half dose."

Scott nods, smiling as he kisses Derek's chin. "Alright."

Derek smiles back, holding Scott's face. "I promise it'll be good. Hell, why do you think _I_ like it so much?"

"Guess I'll find out, won't I?" Derek has to check and see if Scott's sprouted a tail because if he had, he's positive he'd be wagging it right now.

"Tell you what – I'll cook it into a steak for you. Sound good?"

"Medium well sounds even better." Scott places his order with a twitch of his hips, grinding a little against Derek's crotch. The way Derek growls low in his throat makes the hairs on Scott's neck stand up ramrod straight.

"Give me thirty minutes." Derek releases Scott, stepping back and heading to the fridge. Scott turns around to look at Derek, naked save for his underwear and even that's riding low so that his pubic hair peeks out over the waistband. He licks his lips, Derek's cock making the fabric stretch invitingly.

Scott doesn't even try to hide the fact that he's perving on Derek, nor does Derek make any sort of honest attempt to stop him. "Sure you want to cook while… naked?"

Derek shakes his head. "I walk around the house naked all the time and have yet to experience any sort of serious mishap. Don't normally have an audience though."

"You just said that because I said it earlier." Scott sits up in the counter and rubs his dick through his jeans, watching Derek's ass jiggle in his underwear as he sets the steaks on the stove, still in their plastic from the supermarket.

"And it just means we happen to think alike – picture it, Scott – if we spend the summer together and are both naked _all the time_ …"

"Then we're not going to see anyone else from the end of May until August, is what's going to happen." Scott sounds half intrigued, half intimidated by the prospect of doing nothing but screwing around with Derek for three solid months. It's not a _terrible_ idea, but Scott does have to work and see his family at some point.

"Is that really such a bad thing? I know you and Stiles are tight and all but…"

"I know, he's aggravating – but you know we're a package deal." Scott sees the frown before it turns the corners of Derek's mouth downwards and immediately starts to backpedal. "But he's not going to be here this weekend, I promise." Scott gives him a hopeful smile and gestures for Derek to come to him.

Derek stays put, turning on his griddle and shooing Scott's feet from in front of the cabinet door to grab his cutting board. He catches a long whiff of Scott, sweaty and dirty from working in the basement and then running – it's intoxicating. Scott notices the way Derek's paused and rubs his head.

"You smell good too, Derek." It comes out hushed, desire tinging the edges of each syllable. "Like, _really_ good."

Derek gets a knowing look in his eyes – the same one from last night when Scott had come off the lacrosse field, all flushed and damp. "See what I mean?"

Scott nods, then jumps down off the counter and takes the cutting board from Derek's hands and sets it aside. "I keep forgetting what a difference a day being around you makes."

"Potent, isn't it?" Derek tilts his neck up as Scott breathes deep, hands on Derek's back and ass, touching, squeezing, covering himself even further in Derek's aroma.

Scott doesn't make any sound, just nods. Derek tilts his head up so he can kiss him, pressing his advantage and Scott's knees buckle ever so slightly as Derek's tongue licks into his mouth. Both groan, desire that has become pent up threatening to break the levee.

Derek pulls away, hissing through his teeth as Scott thumbs at his nipples. "Might want to get this show on the road before we end up in a very uncomfortable position, yeah?" Derek's underwear is wet now, the seat damp with slick.

Scott frowns, hands lingering on Derek's hips. "Huh?"

"If you want to do what we talked about, it's gonna be a lot less hectic of a transition on a not empty stomach. Unless you just want to feel sick."

Grumbling, Scott lets go of his mate and his delicious smelling body to go sit down. "Fine." He flops discontentedly into the chair at the table, rubbing his achey dick watching Derek's back as he sears and preps two beautiful rib eye steaks, instant mashed potatoes and steamed peas and carrots rounding it all out. Scott's so hung up on sex and thinking about Derek that he doesn't even notice when Derek tells him, "dinner's ready."

Derek places a generous plate of food down in front of Scott, the steak done to perfection and broadcasting how wonderful it's going to be via tendrils of steam curling up towards Scott's nose.

The fragrance of something decidedly not steak like is also embedded with the crushed pepper and lemon seasoning that Derek swears is wonderful on everything. "Hey, Derek?"

"It's your special blend of Omega herbs you smell – trust me, you want it in food. That stuff by itself is nasty to take by mouth. Well, that or inject it."

Scott decides to just taste the steak instead of think about his alternatives.

Derek watches as he sits down across from Scott, squirming as his own slick causes his underwear to stick to him. He could just take it off but there's something about eating bare ass naked that weirds him out. Besides, he's teased and tempted Scott enough for the time being.

Scott looks up and notices how closely Derek's studying him. "I'm not going to choke on it, babe."

Derek gives a happy shrug. "Just want to see your reaction."

Scott indulges him and cuts off a great big piece and pops it in his mouth, chewing as though the steak has malicious intent. He doesn't taste anything that shouldn't be there –but his wolf definitely perks up at the special ingredients and asks what's going on, what are you doing to your body.

"Stuff works quick, doesn't it?"

"Faster for True Alphas," Derek explains. "Uh, it was kind of a necessity thing. Since True Alphas can, well, _could_ knot or be knotted without taking a mate, they were… placeholders during heats for Omegas who didn't have mates."

Scott pulls a face and shudders about thinking the pack bicycle – even if would be for the sake of stability. "I don't have to do that, do I?"

"Oh hell no – you're mated and the pack leader Scott – you don't have to worry about that." Derek tries his hard to convey I promise that with his expression as well, and Scott looks a little more relieved. Even if that weren't the case, Derek can't fathom having to share Scott with _anyone_ ; it's bad enough that Stiles comes with him as well and they aren't even romantically involved.

Scott looks up from his dinner, holding Derek's eyes for a moment. "You still haven't answered my question from earlier."

"I know." Derek leaves off the _we aren't talking about it now_. He's very shortly going to be showing Scott what he hopes amounts to the time of his life – he is not mulling over his scarring past right now if he can help it. Scott's surprisingly perceptive for someone his age, and Derek kind of gets the feeling it will only get stronger with age. Reading people is just what he does, unlike Derek, who'd rather have as little contact with others as possible.

"Okay," Scott says, his voice flat. Whether it's from the changes his body is starting to undergo or genuine disappointment with Derek, Derek can't be sure.

"Scott, look – later, alright? I promise." Derek reaches for Scott's hand, rubbing his knuckles. "I swear I'm not ignoring the question just… not now."

Scott nods, setting his fork aside and gripping Derek's fingers with both hands. "I'll sit on you if I have to until you talk."

Derek grins so wide at the prospect of Scott sitting on him that his eyes crinkle. "That seems fair."

"You just want me to hold you down, don't you?"

"Among other things." Derek's eyebrows couldn't be more lascivious if they tried.

Scott rolls his eyes and starts tucking back into his dinner. "Are you always going to be like this? I kind of miss you being morose and hateful of everything."

Derek frowns. "I'm… not actually like that. Just my patience and tolerance of most people is very, very small."

"And it's not with me?"

Derek shakes his head, Scott looking honestly incredulous. "Of course not. Scott, _I'm your mate_ – that decision isn't made lightly. You know that."

Scott chews a little more, pushing around his peas. "I still get intimidated sometimes."

"By what?"

"You."

The crestfallen look Derek gets in his eyes makes Scott feel kind of bad for bringing it up. "Why?"

"Because you _are_ intimidating. I know you can't help your resting face or whatever but Derek, it's still kind of scary to be with you some days." Scott looks right at him, the hurtful honesty on his voice cutting Derek through to the bone. "I know you don't want to hurt me, at least not now – but…" Scott struggles for words, feeling foolish for trying to broach this now.

Derek stands, coming around the table to get on his knees between Scott's legs; he can smell the doubt on his skin, the way he's afraid for saying what he just said. Derek reaches up to cup his chin, turns his face towards his. He holds those dimpled cheeks with both palms, kissing Scott so gently on the lips that it's akin to a rose petal landing on a still pond. Scott doesn't move an inch, just lets the presence and nearness of his Omega calm him.

Their hearts are beating slowly, nearly in time with each other when Derek's voice caresses Scott's ears.

"Scott, _listen_ – you said earlier that I shouldn't have to feel uncomfortable in my own home. The same goes for when you're around me."

Scott does listen, very carefully. He listens even more closely to the unspoken _you don't ever have to worry about this ending_ that Derek lets hang on the end of his words and hell if it doesn't make his stomach turn a flip. That's the thing about being a wolf, moreover a mated one; it's incredibly hard to be dishonest with each other.

It has its advantages, really – just coming to term with how wonderful they are makes Scott's throat thicken with emotion that he rapidly swallows against.

"C'mere," Derek murmurs, holding Scott as he licks across the part of his lips. Scott lets him in, warmth spilling over his body as Derek tugs him up out of the chair, coming to stand with their arms around each other.

Derek's just an inch taller than Scott, using it to his advantage to let Scott huddle and be held against his body. Derek rubs his back, long strokes up and down his spine that make Scott's skin tingle far more than the gesture should. Sensation races across Scott's flesh like a brush fire on a hundred degree plus day, shooting right on down to the ends of his bare toes.

"Derek," Scott moans, "I… I think it's starting." Scott feels the shift, his body opening up to Derek's as of yet unperformed touches, already craving to be filled, surrounded, protected.

"Do you want to go upstairs?" Derek pauses, refusing to go anywhere until Scott gives the all clear.

"Yes – and hurry." Scott can feel the ability to stand starting to lessen with each passing moment – the sooner he's on his back, the better.

Derek grabs his hand and leads him up to his (okay, _their_ ) bedroom, not wasting a moment. He thinks that maybe, just maybe he and Scott should clean up before they get too hot and heavy with each other – then decides against it when Scott pulls him down on the bed on top of him. Besides, Scott smells all submissive and sweaty and wonderful right now – Derek's not going to let any of that go to waste.

Scott makes a noble effort at simultaneously trying to slow grind against Derek and get his clothes off – Derek appreciates his ambition but it's counterproductive, no matter how hot it is to feel how insanely hard Scott is through his jeans. Derek tries to say something, even grunt a "we need to get naked" but Scott's glued to him, his legs tangled with Derek's and his hands practically epoxied to his back.

Well, if this is what Derek _has_ to live with…

Derek acquiesces to the way Scott's trying to bite into his mouth, shoving his tongue in as far as he can go. Scott straight up whimpers for more, tasting along Derek's teeth, the inside of his lips, everywhere – Derek can't help but smile. It's exactly what he feels every time he and Scott are together like this, the desperation, the excitement, the _need._ It nearly drives him crazy, just because that bond is so damned strong and making the connection – on a physical and emotional level – brings Derek such complete and utter satisfaction that getting to show Scott what he experiences isn't something he won't soon forget.

Scott has to break this kiss, gasping for oxygen. "Derek," he groans, the cause of it being Derek's stubbly jaw scraping against his neck as he's spackled with kisses.

"'M listening" he murmurs, going for the hem of Scott's shirt.

"Want you to eat me out," he says, voice ragged and heartbeat going crazy.

Derek follows up with sliding backwards, temporarily free of Scott's grip. He pops the button on Scott's jeans and has the zipper down in half a second, doing it so smoothly that Scott would swoon were he not already on his back. Derek goes for his belly where Scott's shirt has ridden up, dappling kisses across Scott's abs and come gutters. There's a vision in Derek's head of making them run white, Scott covered in his own semen until both he and Derek are sticky with it.

Derek has every intention of fulfilling that vision, and the sooner the better.

Scott's back arches as Derek's mouth travels across his skin, licking, nipping, eking out sensations on top of one another that render Scott speechless. Derek watches the red flush of arousal so intense that it colors Scott nearly a shade darker as it races across his body with fascination, Scott's eyes a temporary red-orange.

Derek stops, slack jawed, the hair on Scott's arms getting longer as he shifts ever so slightly.

"Scott?" Derek questions.

Scott growls, not a warning, but a plea for more.

"I'm fine, just… God, don't stop Derek, please." Scott's clawed fingers are caressing his own chest through his shirt, rubbing his nipples against the scratchy fabric and making Scott's dick jump underneath his as of yet unremoved jeans.

Derek makes good on the request, leaving Scott's lower body completely naked. His cock's an angry purple at the head, leaking precome so much that it flows out in a river down the corona and along the length of the shaft, leaving it a shiny wet. Impulse has Derek's mouth on Scott's penis in a second, jaw already unhinged so that he can take Scott all the way down to the springy, dark patch of his pubic hair.

Scott swears, then shouts Derek's name, a fast _fuckDerekfuckfuckfuckfuck_ as Derek's tongue dances out a rhythm along the underside of his dick, making Scott's nerves stretch and pull until feeling burns like an ion star low in his gut, hot and intense and making his whole body shudder. Derek shoves his right hand down the front of his underwear to stroke himself as he sucks off the taste of Scott's salty cock, sweat and precome and sinful-sweet teenager.

It shouldn't turn Derek on nearly as much as it does to know that he's the first and _only_ one to do this to Scott; Scott's said as much to him, perhaps a little shyly (he's never going to badmouth Allison, not even on his deathbed) but still, Derek lets himself be a little smug about being able to deep throat his Alpha.

Scott roars when Derek goes halfway up and tugs his balls, tongue swirling around his head, teasing over the slit until there isn't much left for Scott to do but arch his back in reflex and grind his heels into the mattress. It's driving Derek crazy to not shove his face between Scott's legs and never remove himself, because Scott smells _incredible_ – damn however unsexy the origin of slick might be, Derek has absolutely zero qualms about his mouth or face being in or near it.

Derek slides his free hand up the inside of Scott's thighs – positively coated at this point with his arousal – and circles the rim of Scott's hole with a finger. He's not about to make a comparison to a flower opening or anything like that but it's awfully fucking sexy the way that the skin flutters and Scott automatically cants his hips upwards, his cock slipping out of Derek's mouth with the motion.

Scott grabs Derek's head, sitting up as they collide into a kiss. Derek mumbles "sorry for getting sidetracked" against Scott's mouth, apology is accepted via Scott taking his shirt off, and then Derek's being helped up towards the head of the bed.

Derek suddenly gets the feeling that his control of the situation may have just slipped.

Scott ends up manhandling Derek until he's straddling his chest backwards, his thumbs hooked in Derek's underwear as he slides them downwards past his knees. Derek's got a full, unobstructed view of Scott's ass, round and perfect, his hole a dark pink, shiny with lubrication. There's no further command or question for Derek to rim him – Derek just does it.

The sound it pulls out of Scott as Derek's tongue licks into him is as close to divine as Derek has ever heard.

It dawns on Derek that he's not eaten Scott out that often – it's the one thing Scott's self-conscious about, and understandably so. As far as he's concerned, his dick's the only thing intended to get him off and as a teenager, that's perfectly normal behavior.

Well, Derek can't let him get away with that.

Scott makes a game try at sucking Derek off but with the way Derek's making him see stars every time his tongue makes shapeless art over his perineum it's a lost cause; instead Scott ends up tearing at the sheets and trying to push back even further onto Derek's face.

"De… Derek.." Scott pleads, his whole body shaking with an overload of stimulation that, if Scott's being frank with himself, he didn't think he'd be able to handle. Sure it's only temporary but hell if it doesn't feel like he's stepped into the sun and become trapped there. Every movement of Derek's body against his makes him shudder so hard that it goes somewhere past bone deep.

Derek ceases eating Scott out, moving to suck at the heavy hang of Scott's balls, half mouthing, half saying "yes?" – he's enjoying this far too much to come to a full stop.

"Wanna fuck now," he slurs, unashamedly drunk on lust and the fascination with what his own body's capable of.

Derek's quick to oblige and he puts his hands on Scott's hips, bringing his body backwards so that they're flush, back to chest. He bites Scott's neck, tongue tracing over the faded scars of his mating bite. Scott moans, reaching behind himself and grabbing the back of Derek's head as he fists his own dick, precome coating the outsides of his thumb and index finger as he pumps. They slide against each other, Scott feeling the head of Derek's cock teasing at his hole, skin alight with hormones that normally remain dormant, each passing second a different supernova of feeling that leaves Scott increasingly breathless.

"How d'you want it baby," Derek whispers, his mouth hovering somewhere between Scott's right ear and the space behind it. The puffs of warm air against his already overheated skin make Scott shiver.

"On my back – want to see you" Scott manages, at this point not particularly caring – he just needs Derek's cock in him _now._

It takes a moment of shuffling and repositioning and stopping to grope each other but soon Scott's on his back, hands hanging onto the headboard as Derek slides a pillow under his ass to give him more leverage. Scott's hole is flush with slick, shiny wet in the low light, both of their bodies dampened almost completely with sweat. Scott hungrily takes in the way Derek's body hair is matted to him, leaning up to kiss and lick at his chest as Derek spreads his legs a little wider.

When Scott's tongue flicks over his left nipple – unadorned of his piercing – Derek nearly howls, his normal bodily sensitivity ratcheted up past maximum. Scott does it again, making Derek curl in on himself, his hands gripping Scott's shoulders hard. So Scott hasn't really gotten in any good licks quite yet – Derek's willing to let him have that one, even if it does distract from his ultimate goal.

Scott grins, then lets go of the head board to bring Derek to him with one hand and then guide his dick inside with the other. Scott's tongue slides into Derek's mouth the moment the wide, thick head of his cock pushes into Scott's ass, control once again plucked from Derek's grasp as easily as a piece of paper being carried away by a strong wind.

Maybe they should do this more often, seeing as how it makes Scott as smooth as anything.

"Thought I was the one who was supposed to do that," Derek mutters. He's balls deep in Scott by this point, trying not to think about how fucking easy it was going in. Scott is absolutely soaking _wet;_ that in and of itself is a massive turn on, not to mention that Scott's as tight as can be and werewolf or night, Derek's honestly surprised he's not howling in pain.

Instead, Scott's got his legs wrapped around Derek's waist and body, sucking on his bottom lip. "I'm still the Alpha, Derek."

Like Derek needed to be reminded.

Scott clenches around Derek's cock so hard that for a moment, all Derek sees is a white light behind his eyelids, followed by the semi coherent thought of _he knows those muscles exist?_ It throws him off ever so slightly, making an attempt at pumping his hips, only for Scott to grind down and against, his legs keeping Derek firmly in place while he performs such sweet torture that maybe Derek should just sit back and let Scott do all the work,

Only Scott stops a second later, rocking Derek's body with his calves – not even in his sex addled haze can Derek miss the signal for what it is that Scott wants from him.

Their kiss doesn't break, not even as Derek starts to fuck Scott with focus. Scott's hands keep drifting from Derek's upper back to his shoulder, hanging on to his hips and ass, every few seconds going towards Derek's own wet hole. Derek's been feeling slick drip down his leg since they started messing around in the kitchen and now the backs of his legs are slippery with it. Scott slides two fingers in, the tips just barely curling against his prostate.

It's definitely more than enough to make Derek bite right on down to Scott's bottom lip and make him bleed.

Scott doesn't even flinch, just rides out the sudden, erratic, hard thrusting of Derek's hips because he's right there with him, overloaded with endorphins, his cock rock hard against Derek's belly. He can feel the way his precome's connecting them, sticky trails against their abs that break and reconnect every time Derek pushes back in.

Derek licks away the coppery tinge of blood from their lips and then sits upright. He looks right into Scott's eyes as he starts to fuck him harder, dark red-orange pools ringed with warm brown. Scott stares back, _I trust you_ underlying each breathy moan Derek punches out of him, getting louder and louder the faster Derek goes.

Let it be known that Scott McCall, True Alpha and all around sweetheart, is a loud, whorey bottom and Derek fucking loves it.

Scott grabs Derek's head, his heels dug into the backs of Derek's thighs as he pushes back against Derek, instinct making him meet his mate halfway. Derek tries to kiss Scott, failing when he instead just bumps noses with him, both sucking down the other's air. It's hot, fast, intense, sweat fusing them together down their center lines; Derek's not going to last much longer, and given the way Scott's heart is thundering like a freight train he isn't either.

"Derek," – his name interrupts the torrent of moans and half-screams coming from Scott's mouth like the eye of a hurricane – "'m not gonna last, please, baby, wanna come with you."

It's asked so sweetly that Derek's not able to do anything but oblige.

"Got you, Scott," he promises, then takes Scott's left hand and puts it on his ass. Scott gets the message, shoving three fingers deep into Derek's stretched of its own accord hole. They slide in really easy, arousal having prepped Derek so thoroughly that it's dangerously sexy how Scott can just go slide home like that. He finds the hard knot of Derek's prostate, massages, strokes, bringing Derek to bare down on him.

Scott can feel his knot try to swell, instead held back by the potent mixture of herbs coursing through his body; it's still going to be a powerful orgasm, knot or no knot, and with the way Derek's hammering at his sweet spot like God Himself commanded it he's absolutely not going to last.

"Fuck-" is all that Scott gets out.

Derek swears that time slows to a complete standstill as Scott's orgasm wracks his body, spurt after spurt of come flying untouched from his dick. Derek had managed to lean back when he felt Scott start to contract, but only just, and he nearly misses getting coated. Scott paints the wall and headboard, screaming so loudly that his roar shakes the windowpanes. A full minute passes before he's finished, his face and hair and body streaked with rivulets of spunk.

Derek doesn't even realize he's come twice in the time that Scott was hanging onto the edge of complete and total nirvana.

Scott's crying, the tears making the semen on his cheeks run down off of his chin. They aren't tears of pain, just overstimulation and sensation so powerful that Derek's just sitting back, still buried in Scott's ass, rubbing his thighs and waiting for Scott to come back to earth.

Derek lifts Scott's hands, his palms slick with sweat from keeping such a firm hold on Derek's body. Derek kisses each finger, just the pad, a bare ghosting of his lips over hot skin. Scott groans, even that little touch making his body threaten to quake.

"Now you know why I like for you to keep touching me even after I come," Derek says, voice warm and heavy like a downy blanket. He takes Scott's hands in his, not moving his mate, simply trying to pull him back into the semi-conscious world.

"Can't… can't say that I blame you." Scott manages a smile, his tongue licking out to get at the sticky come on his lips. Derek's heart skips a beat as he watches Scott savor the mess. "Kind of want to kiss you though."

Derek doesn't even deign to give him words, just leans down. He starts at the hollow of Scott's collarbone, scooping up come with his tongue before he trails up the gorgeous curve of Scott's neck, once, twice around his Adam's apple, then to his mouth. Scott's legs go back around Derek, pulling him into his body and gluing them together. Derek's cock – still very much inside Scott – stirs, barely softened. He thrusts involuntarily as Scott lick him clean, the motion making him yelp right into Derek's mouth.

Scott has to break the kiss, exertion coloring his cheeks even darker red. "You can't do that baby."

"Sorry," Derek kisses back at him. "Reflex."

"Just… really, _really_ sensitive." The way Scott's thighs are quivering is silent reinforcement to his condition.

"Want me to pull out yet?"

Scott grins, then slides his fingers into Derek's hair at the back of his head.

"No."

It's a long while before the come coating them starts to dry and Derek's body hair starts to get uncomfortably sticky – and even then, pulling out of Scott is difficult. Scott's gotten even tighter around him and when the head of his cock catches against Scott's hole they both nearly climax again, sensitivity still floating at a high and pheromones coursing through the bleachy smelling air. Scott doesn't ever really let go of Derek, either – he's mimicking Derek when their roles are as they should be, that same desire to be touched and remain touching very much there.

The logical part of Derek's brain hopes that maybe Scott's learned something from this. To have their roles switched, even temporarily, for Scott to gain some understanding of what Derek feels – it's more than worth the shaky limbs and the way their bodies keep curling in towards each other as they sit up and regain some focus.

Scott looks delirious, his face plastered with a grin that's not shrank since they started swapping jizz. "Think I want a shower."

Derek chuffs a laugh into his neck. "Can you stand for that long?"

"Touche," Scott says. "Will you carry me again?"

"Uh, don't think I can – you're not the only one with spaghetti legs."

Scott can't help the explosion of laughter that follows Derek saying the term "spaghetti legs."

"It's not funny," Derek grumbles. Spaghetti legs is a perfectly apt term to describe his current condition.

Scott calms down, but the smile doesn't fade. "C'mon – I was serious about shaving you."

Derek holds back for a moment, purely to see how Scott's going to manage actually getting up – and remaining so. Scott makes three tries at swinging his legs out over the edge of the bed, each one cut short by the jello-like consistency of his legs. He's firm about keeping everything clenched, too – Derek's left a mess inside him and as enjoyable as it was being fucked into the mattress, he doesn't particularly relish the feeling of having… that leak down his legs.

"I promise I'm not gonna laugh, Scott – you can walk normally." The grin playing around the edges of Derek's lips completely and totally belies that statement.

Scott swats Derek's kneecap, looking his mate up down from his wet, semi-hard cock up to his sweaty brow – just because he can. "I'm not used to this, thank you." Scott gathers up his dignity and finally manages to get to his feet, hanging onto the mattress should gravity decide it needs him on the floor. Thankfully he only sways forward, the bathroom door impossibly far away.

Derek gets up and joins him, putting a supporting arm around Scott's waist. "I'm done now."

The sweet kiss he puts on Scott's damp cheek makes up for any embarrassment Scott may have been feeling.

It's difficult to not cling to Derek while he starts to fill the tub, so Derek solves the issue by simply depositing Scott in the tub as the water starts to cover the bottom of it and then follows him right after. He pulls Scott to his front, steam making the air thick. Only the vanity light is on over the mirror, leaving Scott's skin bathed in orangeish half-light.

Scott mewls contentedly as Derek kisses his neck and slides the bar of soap over his skin, scrubbing gently so as not to aggravate his sensitive condition any further.

"Is it always like this, after I knot you?" Scott's eyes are closed, his voice syrupy with endorphins. The low pitch makes Derek draw him in even closer, making the effort to dig into the sound of his mate's voice.

"I'd be lying if I said it wasn't," Derek murmurs. "It's really hard to not be around you afterwards."

"I thought you were just a cuddler." Scott turns his head, kissing Derek's jaw. "Guess I was wrong."

"Well," Derek says, slipping his hand down Scott's front. "I am a cuddler – just with being an Omega, it makes me even more so."

Scott nods, sinking down slightly into the now navel-deep water. "I like cuddling with you."

Derek picks up on the sweet honesty in Scott's tone, kisses the back of his head. "That's not just the pheromones talking, I hope."

Scott shakes his head, turning his body halfway so that he's laying against Derek's shoulder, legs stretched out in the long tub. "Of course not – I wouldn't lie about that." He kisses Derek's neck, walking his finger up the center line of his body. Derek uses his free hand to capture Scott's fingers with his own as he draws near his heart.

"I'd know anyway." Derek squeezes Scott's fingers, listening to Scott's heartbeat. It's slower now, thudding quietly as Scott lapses fully into post-sex bliss. He's beautiful like this, untroubled as he ever can be.

Scott turns his face into Derek's neck, inhales and then sits up a little more. His sleepy eyes reflect Derek back to him, head tilted ever so slightly to the left. He studies Derek's face, his neck, slowly drawing his line of sight down and then back up. Derek doesn't stop washing Scott the whole time, the suds leaving clouds of white bubbles over Scott dark, damp skin.

Derek holds Scott's gaze, unspoken commitment hanging between them like a summery haze. Scott touches Derek's face, his thumbs stroking his cheekbones, his jaw, memorizing for the hundredth time what he feels like. It's tender, quiet – two things Derek didn't have much of in his life before he met Scott.

"I feel like I should say something," Scott whispers, blinking slowly. "But…"

"I get it, babe." There isn't really anything to say – extra sensory perception being what it is in werewolves, body language and pheromones have written volumes in the last ten minutes between them. "It's alright, Scott – I know."

Scott kisses Derek, bumping their foreheads together gently. Derek drops the washcloth to put his arms around Scott, settling him in his lap as carefully as he can without sloshing water out over the side of the tub. Scott goes willingly, their bodies slotting together, soapy water streaming off of both of them. Scott reaches for the soap and starts to wash Derek's back as he licks across Derek's lips, forever associating the smell of Irish Spring with making out with his mate.

Derek's limbs are feeling pleasantly heavy by the time they part, Scott warmer than warm where he's holding him down with his weight. "Still want to shave me?"

Scott nods. "Yeah, I do."

Derek indicates in the direction of the wall behind the bathtub's faucet. "My razor and shaving cream are on the shelf."

Scott hates to draw away from him but he goes anyway, careful to not catch himself against Derek's feet – his body's a little numb, and a toe to the squishy bits isn't something he particularly wants right now. He finds the razor and Barbisol, then comes back to plant himself in Derek's lap again.

"Can't say I've done this a lot," Scott says. "I don't grow a lot of facial hair."

Derek smiles, then touches Scott's smooth cheeks. "I trust you completely." Derek tilts his chin up and closes his eyes as Scott squirts shaving cream onto his fingers. He shivers a bit when it touches his skin but Scott's warm hands soon heat it up.

Scott holds his tongue between his teeth as he makes the first smooth glide over Derek's prickly jaw. "I've kind of wanted to do this for a while now," he admits.

Derek's eyes open, his brow lifting in a question of _really?_

Scott smiles, concentrating on guiding the razor over Derek's chin. "Yeah – I like it when you're smooth. Reminds me of the first time I saw you."

Derek takes the opportunity when Scott dips the razor in the water to reply. "Didn't exactly get off to a good start, Scott."

Scott shrugs, going back over Derek's jaw. "Well… I thought you were cute anyway. Didn't tell Stiles that the guy who wanted to kill me gave me the hots though."

"For the record, it's probably best you not tell him much of _anything_."

Scott rolls his eyes, then starts to shave up to Derek's sideburns. "There's plenty of stuff he doesn't know, babe."

"Such as?"

"A lot of the more intimate details of our relationship. Yeah he can guess when we've done it or whatever but in all fairness, the hickies don't exactly fade quickly."

Derek leans forward to lick Scott's neck, licking over his favorite spot to leave a mark or two, just to the left of his Adam's apple. "And that's a bad thing?"

"No, of course not." Scott shivers as Derek blows cold air across his skin, the razor paused against Derek's cheek. Derek reaches up and takes it from Scott's hands, pulling him into another long kiss. Scott melts right into the cooling water, letting Derek caress his body. He's still high off of sex, the sensitivity making his heart race. Derek stops before Scott's too far gone, then hands him back the razor.

Not looking terribly pleased about having Derek's tongue once again removed from his mouth, Scott frowns and starts to finish up shaving Derek's face. "That's not fair."

Derek grins, picking up the washcloth and re-lathering. "Couldn't help myself. Sorry Scott but if you're gonna spend so much time in my personal space, it's kind of hard to resist doing."

Scott plucks the washcloth from Derek's hand, deigning Derek's face to be smooth as silk. "Don't worry – I'd have to complain a lot more before I asked you to stop." He starts to wash Derek's chest, scritching lightly in the wake of the washcloth. Derek leans his head back against the edge of the tub, letting Scott work.

For a while, the only sound is the water sloshing around as Scott washes Derek, interspersed with kisses so long and tender that each time they break apart the water's gotten a little colder. Once Derek notices that the ends of Scott's fingers have gotten pruney, he decides that maybe now's a good time to stop.

"Getting a little cold, babe," Derek says. "Wanna get out?"

Scott sets the washcloth on the shelf behind Derek's head, his razor and shaving cream already there. "Think my legs have fallen asleep." He's been sitting cross legged for the last twenty minutes and to be truthful, he can't really feel much of anything aside from Derek's body against his own; exhaustion has won out against the mixture he'd ingested earlier, his body pink from the warm water and his eyes back to their normal, inviting brown.

Derek kisses him one more time, then helps him stand. He gets out first, leaving Scott in the water while he retrieves a towel. They're still the slightest bit warm from the dryer the day before, having been locked in the cabinet beneath the sink. He's gentle about drying Scott, fending off his attempts to grab Derek and give him more kisses.

"You're not helping," Derek grouses good naturedly. Scott's still in the tub and he steps back long enough for Scott to get out.

"Like you just standing there naked is easy to resist."

"We've been naked for the last… hour and a half, probably."

Scott takes the towel from Derek and begins drying him off. "And your point is?"

"Touche."

It's barely past nine o'clock but Derek feels tiredness weighing him down even further with each passing moment. He looks at Scott through half hooded eyes, his mate going fuzzy and then back into resolution as he blinks back the exhaustion.

Scott hands up the towel and sets out both he and Derek's toothbrush – thoughtfully placed there the night before when Scott was asleep – and they lean against each other, looking at each other's bodies in the mirror. Halfway through brushing Scott reaches over and cups Derek's balls, loose and hanging low from the hot water of the bathtub.

Derek keeps brushing, spreading his legs apart just a touch so that Scott can grope to his heart's content. "If you want more," he mumbles around his toothbrush, "you're gonna have to wait a while – I came twice, you know."

Scott spits and starts to rinse, his lips foamy white with Crest Tartar Remover. "Really?"

"Yeah – did you not notice all the spunk in your ass?"

Scott, still holding onto Derek's balls, gives him a half shrug. "I wasn't paying so much attention to that as I was holding it in. Didn't want to make a mess on your floor – or bed."

Derek looks back towards the bedroom, the covers still a wadded mess and half tossed into the floor. "Yeah, we should probably change those again – unless you just want to sleep in sweat and stale come."

"I think it smells sexy." Scott winks and kisses Derek's shoulder, then moves behind Derek while he finishes brushing.

"I'm not disagreeing," Derek says after spitting, "but I'd feel better with clean sheets. Besides, we can mess up some other surface tomorrow if you're still horny."

Scott mouths at the back of Derek's neck and strokes his abs. "I'd say the chances of that are really good."

"It's a date." Derek turns around and kisses Scott again, minty fresh and cool. He's not really anticipating making out more but Scott opens his mouth anyway and it's exactly like the good kind of porn, breaking apart a millimeter to lick each other's tongues and into their mouths, kind of loud, just this perfect side of too wet, and Derek can't help but feel a flicker of happiness that this is real and _his._

Scott breaks the kiss once their lips have helped to commit each other to memory that much further. His breath is husky, slow, slightly frayed because he's so damned tired and he just wants to crawl into Derek's space and stay there for a long, long time.

"C'mon – help me change the sheets." Derek already knows which ones he's putting on – blue Egyptian cotton – and since it's a cold night his extra vicuna throw's going over the top of everything.

Scott's admittedly very little help in changing out the linen but he does a good job of holding everything while Derek puts their space back together, smiling sleepily and collapsing atop the mattress as soon as Derek slides the pillow case over his pillow.

Derek frowns, throwing his pillow at Scott for getting in bed without him. "You could have waited like, one more second."

Scott just holds out his arms for Derek to join him. "I could have, but your bed's warm and I want to be the little spoon tonight."

Derek smiles, turning off the lamp and crawling under the sheets with Scott. His arms are around Scott in an instant, his nose buried in the back of his head. He feels Scott shift ever so slightly, finding that perfect spot where Derek's arm won't fall asleep and neither of them have to move if they don't want to.

There's silence for a minute as their breathing slows, thumbs moving over little patches of skin and kisses dropped where they can be.

"Hey, Derek?"

"Yeah?"

Neither of them speak above a whisper.

"Earlier in the forest – I'm sorry if I said anything I shouldn't have. I just want you to be… okay, y'know?"

Derek nods, his head moving against Scott's. "You make it easier, Scott. When you're here, I am. And when you're not, I'm more okay than you might think."

Scott kisses Derek's open palm and snuggles back a little more against him. "I love you."

Those precious three words just aren't spoken enough between them, and every time Derek hears them he wants to hear them ten thousand more times. Scott doesn't say it just because – always quietly, always when he knows Derek has his full attention.

And yet, Derek won't ever hear them enough from his lips.

"I love you too, Scott."

The _more than you will ever know_ is mouthed into the back of Scott's neck and slides over his body like an extra blanket.

Derek falls asleep with Scott's lips touching his palm, each breath rocking him to blissfully dreamless sleep.

Morning brings with it even cooler temperatures and sunshine that just barely gets through the window of Derek's bedroom.

Or at least he would notice it had he awakened before eleven.

Derek rolls over and it's a quarter to noon, his body telling him he should have gotten up two hours ago because now he has a headache from resting too long. He reaches for Scott, only to find Scott's side of the bed empty, long cold, and not much answer as to where he is.

He sits up quickly, looking around as he blinks the grogginess from his eyes. Scott's wallet, phone, and keys are all still on the night stand – which leaves it standing to good reason that Scott's still in the house.

Groaning from morning and good sex strained joints, he wanders into the bathroom, half expecting to find Scott maybe in the shower. Finding no one, Derek relieves himself and as he washes his hands afterwards, lets himself drift in the pleasant haze of the memories last night. He can still taste Scott's come in his mouth, the way he held Derek to his body afterwards, the ghost of his lips murmuring I love you against his skin – it makes Derek's skin prickle with sleepy desire, finding himself still wanting Scott's body.

Since it's likely to be as cool in the rest of the house as it is upstairs, Derek finds a pair of navy blue wool socks and sweatpants, pulling them on without underwear and then a dark gray hoodie over his torso – he has absolutely no plans today, and this is the warmest get up he owns that also allows easy access to his body should Scott want it.

Stretching before he makes his way downstairs, Derek clings to the banister as his limbs regain feeling, motivated by the smell of coffee. Bless Scott for having the foresight to make it – there's nothing like a cup of dark roast after a night of passion to get Derek kicking again.

His question as to Scott's whereabouts is answered as soon as he enters the kitchen – Scott's sitting at the table, his textbooks open before him. He's scribbling furiously, _Farewell to Manzanar_ upside down before him. There are brightly colored sticky tabs jutting from the pages like a colorful porcupine, and Scott picks up the book and studies two pages very closely before he even notices that Derek's there.

"Working hard?"

Derek's voice makes Scott jump and drop his pencil.

Derek makes up for it by swooping in to kiss Scott's cheek.

"You scared me," Scott says. He recomposes himself and finds his pencil, turning his attention to Derek as his mate sits down at the chair adjacent to his right.

"Sorry – I thought you heard me coming." Derek tries to use telekinesis to pour himself a cup of coffee and, finding that it's not working nearly as well as it should that day, gets up with a sigh and shuffles over to the counter.

"I really didn't." Derek hears the fast scratch of graphite against paper as Scott rushes out more thoughts onto the page.

"Interesting stuff?" Derek joins Scott again, peering over his hand to try and figure out what Scott's writing.

"Not really – but I thought maybe I should get it done before you woke up."

"How long have you been up?"

Scott casts a glance back at the clock on the stove. "About three and a half hours now."

Derek whistles. "Been burning the oil for that long without a break?"

"Well…" Scott shifts in his chair, his cheeks flushing ever so slightly with embarrassment. "That first hour I was in the bathroom."

"Side effects of last night?"

"I guess?" Scott brings his eyes to meet Derek's, licking his lips before he continues. "When I woke up my knot was completely swollen and it took me a while to get it to go back down."

"Yeah?" Derek's thoughts travel immediately south, reaching out and putting his hand on Scott's knee under the table.

"I didn't want to wake you, so I tried to be quiet. Kind of surprised you didn't hear me – or smell it."

"You probably could have driven a freight train through the room and I wouldn't have heard it – but are you okay now?"

"I think so – my dick kind of hurts, I've never come so much at one time – not even with you."

Derek has to bite back the moan that threatens to escape him, imagining Scott's head tossed back and his mouth hanging open as he pleasures himself. "I'd have helped, you know."

Scott gets a look in his eyes that holds far more mischief and lustful intent than even Stiles is capable of – and it makes Derek shiver. "Didn't say it was your only chance today, babe."

"You're still horny, even after… all that?"

Scott nods. "Kind of why I wanted to get this finished up, because if I try and do it later I probably won't be able to focus." Scott puts his pencil down and grabs Derek's hands in its stead. "But only if you want to, Derek. I can fix it myself, no problem."

Derek has to smile at Scott, leaning forward in his chair as he picks up his hands and kisses them. "First of all, it's not something to be fixed Scott – it's natural. Secondly, I'm always game for sex with you Scott – you don't have to worry about that."  
They're pulling towards each other for a kiss before they even realize it and suddenly Derek's thrown back to last night, hungry for Scott for, a little desperate even. He moans as Scott opens his mouth to him and Derek's in, morning breath ignored in favor of licking Scott's silky smooth tongue. Derek kind of loves how Scott gets all mewly and squirmy when he does that – he's blessedly easy, and Derek can't begin to express how much he appreciates that.

Scott has to pull away, putting his hand against Derek's chest and breaking the kiss more for himself than for Derek's sake. "Seriously – give me an hour more and then I'm yours for the rest of the day." Derek can tell that he's eroded some of Scott's control, the evidence laying plain as day in the unstable tone of Scott's voice.

Derek feigns sadness and gets up, stretching so that Scott gets a good eyeful of his fuzzy belly and low slung right down to his pubes sweatpants – the sharp inhale of breath Scott takes is priceless. "Do you want some breakfast at least?"

Scott shakes his head, vigorously. "No – I ate already." There's an empty bowl with a couple multigrain Cheerios stuck to it in the sink and the remains of an orange atop an unfolded napkin at the edge of Scott's things.

"I'll be in the study if you need me." Derek kisses the back of Scott's head as he gets up and makes his own food, leaving the door open to listen for Scott should he need to. He finds that when he sits down he's aroused again, Scott's presence making his body respond actively. He reaches inside his pants and tucks his now hard dick up against his stomach, his waistband keeping it in place as he eats his breakfast and messes around on the internet. Save for keeping track of his financials and binge watching porn, Derek doesn't spend a ton of time on his computer. He'd rather work on his hobbies or rebuild the house more, or clear land for the greenhouse and garden he's planning.

Still – that porn idea doesn't sound like a bad one.

Derek's been up front with Scott about his smutty habits since they first got together – and honestly, Derek's not slowed down much. Scott not being around all the time doesn't diminish natural urges that much and Derek keeps two or three subscriptions and a collection of toys (largely unknown to Scott) to keep everything in good working order while Scott's away. He's already stroking himself as he taps in his password for Sean Cody and sits back, keeping the volume just barely above muted.

It's not hard to imagine Scott as one of those models on the screen, and there are definitely a few that resemble his mate; tanned, pretty muscles, a big dick – but none of them ever quite match Scott's inherent passion. It's not enough to be offputting though, especially since Derek's fucking in a gym/locker room/while good and jacked from lifting weights fetish is well served. He watches with intent as one guy leans back on the weight bench and mouths at the other model's dick through his shorts, hands never leaving the bar holding up three hundred pounds as he does it.

"Fuck," Derek breathes to no one in particular. He pauses for just a moment, listening in case Scott's approaching. The study's clear on the other side of the lower floor of the house but even then it's still possible. Hearing the sound of Scott's pencil still going away, Derek eases his sweatpants down to his thighs and lifts up his hoodie, snaking his hand up to his left nipple and gently tugging as he smears precome around the head of his dick. He bites his lip, body already more than open to his own touch, his ass starting to leak from being turned on. That much he ignores for the time being, focused instead on his chest.

Before long he feels the absence of those metal bars almost as intensely as if he were missing his limb and of course they're elsewhere; he allows himself a long huff of annoyance at them not being here with him. He has more than one set, just none within arm's reach. Frustrated, he pauses the video – a beautiful still of some world class deep throating going on – and gets up, his hard dick and wet ass making it hard to walk with any semblance of normality. That he has to pass through the kitchen – and Scott – doesn't exactly help, either.

Derek slips out quietly, pacing along the floor as casually as he can. Scott's still engrossed in his homework (but Derek can smell the nascent arousal on him anyway) and he heads to the back room, his piercings still laying on the table next to the door. He wipes them on the front of his hoodie as he heads back to the kitchen, the hem between his teeth as he makes a game try at walking and putting them back in at the same time.

Scott's no longer looking down when Derek walks in, his stomach and chest on display for the world to see and his left pec cupped in his right hand as he slides his piercing into place.

"Uh…" Scott starts, only to lose track of his thoughts a moment later. He's staring hard at Derek, so casually attractive with his hairy chest and clean shaven face. It makes his stomach turn a flip, his dick twitching along with, the dirty voice in the back of his head _saying get the fuck up and hit that shit._

Derek looks up at Scott, his face replete with a shit eating grin. "I missed them." Derek puts the other in its place and tugs at his nipples to make sure nothing is pinching; they were already hard from the cool temperature and arousal, and touching them only serves to turn him on that much more. He watches Scott's face for a moment, studying closely as Scott works through the varying decisions of "I have homework to finish, Derek's hot and I want to do filthy stuff to/on his body, and finally this essay isn't due until Tuesday anyway, fuck it."

It's still really amusing to watch, as Scott's really kind of terrible at not thinking subtly. He does allow Scott the lesser distraction of letting his sweatshirt drop, leaving Scott with only his hard-on to ogle where it's making the front of his pants tent.

"You were watching porn," Scott states matter of factly. "I told you to give me an hour."

Derek gives an easy shrug and sits on the edge of the table, pushing aside Scott's literature notes. "Just killing time until you were done babe – we can always put it up on the big screen in the living room and jerk off until I have to buy a new couch from the come stains."

Hell, that doesn't sound like a completely terrible idea, come to think of it.

Scott's eyes go glassy for a moment as he lets that image drift through his mind, then shakes his head. "I had something different in mind, actually." Scott gets up out of his chair and Derek notices he's dressed in his comfy jeans and another t-shirt, this one black and nearly form fitting. Derek's hands go right to his forearms and grip them, legs spread so that Scott can stand between them.

Derek doesn't prompt a response, just kisses Scott's neck and lets his hands wander over his arms and body. He's warm even through his clothes, and the proximity makes a bead of sweat roll down Derek's back. It's just an Omega thing, to sweat a little when the Alpha is close – something about the body exuding pheromones in the most natural way it knows how. Derek knows he's broadcasting pretty loudly right now, but even then he doesn't pay much attention to it – Scott will act soon enough.

Still, a few more minutes go by and Scott hasn't followed up with any sort of rejoinder to his previous thought.

"Scott?" Derek's gently mapping out the landscape of Beacon County on the place where his neck and shoulder join.

"Yeah, sorry – just trying to choose the right words." Scott leans back so that he can look Derek in the eye. "It's… I don't know, a little fucked up. Okay _, a lot_ fucked up."

Derek takes Scott's hands and squeezes them tenderly. "I'm pretty open minded, babe, don't worry."

Scott swallows, steeling his resolve. Derek doesn't pressure him, just waits patiently. Scott's beautiful when he's like this, trying to get up the courage to ask for something he really, _really_ wants.

"In some of those videos – the ones you watch, uh, Sean Cody – some of them… kind of look like brothers."

 _Oh._

Alright, Derek can definitely work with this.

The last part comes out in a gasping whisper and Derek can taste the mixture of shame and arousal on his breath. Still he kisses Scott on the mouth, waiting for him to continue. When Scott doesn't speak, Derek leans in and puts his mouth right next to Scott's ear, his own voice a low, sultry growl.

"Those are my favorite ones, Scott." Derek slips a hand up the back of Scott's shirt, scritching along his spine. Scott melts a little towards Derek and keeps going.

"And I thought about – fuck, Derek, this is so bad – thought about how when you shave, we kind of…"

"Look like brothers?"

Derek can literally hear the blood thundering in Scott's veins, his erection pressed hot and hard against Derek's thigh through his jeans. Derek shifts his weight just enough to rub against it, making Scott moan.

"Yeah. And this morning, Derek… I came thinking about that. How that one time you said _we're brothers now_ and how fucking hot it would be, maybe…" Scott sounds like he's just run a marathon, his chest heaving with this beautifully sinful confession – Derek can't bring himself to make Scott stop – the slick leaking out of his ass just from listening to Scott is proof positive that hell _yes_ he's on board with every word coming out of Scott's mouth.

"How hot it would be if big bro gets off on getting railed by his porn star hung little bro?" Derek knows it's mean to just pour out the words like that but hell, he's in the moment and Scott definitely is. Self-indulgence reigns supreme as Derek takes Scott's hand and puts it down the back of his sweatpants, letting Scott feel how wet he is.

"Feel that, little bro?" Scott's handed Derek the ball and now? Now Derek's going to fucking run with it. "Feel how wet I am for you?" Derek hesitates for just a moment, gives Scott the chance to say "I can't do this" but he doesn't just grabs a handful of Derek's ample butt and bites his bottom lip.

Now it's Derek's turn to shift a little further towards a sub-atomic state, because Scott's touch is positively electrifying. His legs are starting to shake from just how much heat has condensed down into this bare quarter meter between them, making them both sweat.

"I do." Scott's found some of his voice again, and this time he keeps going. "What's got you hot and bothered, big bro?"

Derek smirks, taking Scott's mouth again, each word punctuated by a kiss that goes right past lascivious to down and fucking dirty. "Watching you, Scott. Thinking about the other night, you dominating the field like that – so fucking proud of my little jock brother." Derek stands up, letting his sweatpants slide off and his hard dick nudge against Scott's thigh. "Goddamn captain of the team, so hot in your gear."

"Was doin' it for you, Derek. Wanted to show off for my big bro." Scott's into it now, sucking on Derek's lip, licking his neck – Derek's skin feels like it's on fire, even more so than the night before. "Wanted to make you proud."

"You did, Scott, always do." Derek pulls his sweatshirt off and drops it on the floor, followed by his socks. He's as naked as he can get, and Scott takes a full minute to drink the sight in. The way Scott grabs and squeezes himself through his jeans makes Derek lick his lips, the promise of Scott giving him what he wants making his mouth water. He takes Scott by the hand and leads him to the living room, the rug under his feet feeling far too soft to hold him up.

Scott starts to strip down, trying to take off his clothes and keep his hands on Derek at the same time. Halfway through, Derek stops him and kisses a suggestion into those gorgeous lips.

"Want you to fuck me in your gear, Scott. Want you to put your jock and shoulder pads on, even the cleats – then I want you to make me come all over the couch." Derek can't help himself as he adds, grinning "gotta clean up after though – don't want Mom to find out that we fuck around."

Hell, Derek himself nearly comes just from saying it.

Scott bites Derek's naked shoulder to still himself, his body so tightly wound that for a moment Derek thinks he's going to blow right there. He doesn't, regains his composure and finishes taking his clothes off, hard dick swinging between his legs with a string of precome running from the end of it as he retrieves his lacrosse bag from the doorway.

Looking back at Derek, he blows a kiss, the illusion suspended for just a moment as he says "thought it might be better if I change in the bathroom – that okay?"

Derek nods, seating himself on the arm of the couch and giving his cock a couple good strokes. "I'm not going anywhere," he promises. Scott watches for a moment longer, lust coloring his eyes dark. He's gone a second later, leaving Derek by himself.

Derek waits until he hears the downstairs bathroom door close, then makes a mad dash for the laundry room. The process is slowed a little by his slick coating his thighs but when he slides one of his 2xist jockstraps up his legs he figures the discomfort is worth it. He checks himself out in the reflective surface of the dryer door, the black-bordered-with-white straps framing his ass so well that he's tempted to finger himself right then and there. Instead he pulls out a pair of socks the same color as the jock that almost pass for thigh highs and puts them on, feeling at least slightly more in this little mutual fantasy.

Scott's still in the bathroom as Derek silently makes his way back to the living room and he uses the moment alone to situate himself on the couch. The seats are long and wide, designed to accommodate a full complement of tall, long boned werewolves. He sinks himself down into the soft leather, bending and propping his right leg up as he lets his dick poke out one side of the jock. He runs his right hand all the way up from his socked calve and down the back, hooking his arm under himself as he spreads his legs a touch more to get to his hole.

Right as he's sliding a finger in, he hears Scott coming, the tap-tap-tap of his cleats against the floor making Derek's dick twitch. He catches Scott's scent before he actually sees him, the gentle rustle-tap of his shoulder pads traveling to Derek's ears right before Scott enters the room.

The anticipation makes him more wet than Scott actually drawing near.

Derek doesn't stop teasing himself as Scott comes into full view; if anything he goes a little further, two fingers in his ass now and his other hand on his chest, teasing his nipples.

Scott pervs on Derek's unashamedly sprawled form, the material of his jock making a pathetic attempt at keeping his dick contained. "Started without me big bro?" Scott's right back in it as easily as he slipped out, and he takes a step forward.

Derek bares his neck in invitation, smiling. "Couldn't help myself – got all heated just thinking about you holding me down and fucking me." Derek tilts his chin, beckoning Scott forward. "Love how strong my little brother is."

Scott gives Derek a pornographic flex, his chest and stomach muscles popping out in beautifully high definition. Derek reaches out and slides his hand up Scott's body, drinking in the sight like a man dying of thirst.

Scott leans down on one knee over Derek, dropping kisses along the way to mouth. "Wanna be as big as you one day, Derek." He licks Derek's chin and goes for his left nipple, tonguing at the piercing. Derek gets an image of he and Scott working out together naked, just like in one of those pornos; Derek makes a mental note to convert some part of the house into a home gym so that he and Scott can do exactly that.

"You will be, Scott, just you wait." The truth is that pound for pound, Scott's not that far behind – even now their biceps are nearly the same size, even though Scott's abs are just a little more washboard-y and Derek's ass definitely has more jiggle to it. They complement each other nicely, their bodies fitting together exactly as they should, regardless of the differences in size.

Scott groans, their lower bodies touching. Derek grinds his hips against Scott's, the fabric of their jocks rubbing against each other, both precome sticky. Scott's catches and smears on Derek's leg hairs, leaving little damp spots everywhere the head comes into contact with his skin. He gets his left hand down between them and jerks Scott's dick, all the while hissing through his teeth and groaning as Scott teases his nipples.

"Fuck, Derek," Scott gasps, Derek's thumb right on his frenulum, "so good at that, big bro."

Derek pulls Scott up for a kiss, hooking the leg he had propped up on the sofa around Scott's lower back. "Want that big dick in me soon, babe." Another kiss, another involuntary jerk as Scott's cock thickens that much further in his hand. "Fucking love that my little brother's bigger than me." Derek ruts his dick against the inside of Scott's thigh to emphasize his point.

Scott had plans to eat Derek out, to make him crazy with want but with the way Derek's jumped right into this delightfully twisted situation it's awfully hard to not think about that, fucking Derek and calling him big brother while he does it.

Derek's got his nose buried in Scott's neck while his mate chews that information over, breathing in deep the scent of Scott's sweat damp body, his hot afternoons and long games used gear, the ripe pheromones and testosterone that can never really be washed out filling his nostrils. It's almost too much, too visceral, but he wants to drown in it and never come back up for air, just… give himself to Scott until there's nothing to him but a come soaked and spattered mess.

Scott reaches down, runs two fingers over Derek's perineum and down to his hole; Derek can't help but think of how this is probably how he used to tease Allison, rubbing her through panties that Scott made wet. It doesn't bode well for Derek that this turns him on that much more and maybe, just maybe when they're both more comfortable with each other he'll wear some for Scott, ask him to eat him out like a girl –

"Gonna fuck you so good, big brother. Gonna fill you up with come and then fuck you again, make a fucking mess of your ass."

Scott's sudden declaration of his intents derail Derek's thoughts in the most beautifully disruptive way.

Derek spreads his legs and holds his ankles – just in case his invitations up til now hadn't been clear enough.

"Fuck me."

Scott gets growly as he kisses Derek so hard he busts his lip again, blood staining their tongues as Scott lines up and pushes into Derek way too fast. Derek howls, his body trying to play catch up. He's got a firm hold on Scott's shoulder pads, the plastic bending under his grip.

"Too fast, Derek?" Scott's genuine concern is a brief respite, but Derek doesn't let it knock them off course.

Instead of growling a no, Derek just squeezes around Scott's cock, then turns his head to wipe away the blood on his bicep. "C'mon, little bro – show me what you got."

Derek does occasionally regret his words, and this just might be one of those rare instances.

Scott finds some sort of third wind – the first and second having been used up the previous day and night before – but he's got just as much if not more motivation, bottoming out until Derek's toes have curled so far in that he's starting to get a foot cramp. He waits to move, Derek breathing hard and so slick with arousal that it's dripping off the couch. Scott adjusts for the angle, causing his cock to nudge against Derek's prostate.

That's signal enough for Scott to begin.

Derek didn't think he could sink any deeper into the couch, only to be proven wrong a moment later. Scott's an animal, the massive sofa moving an inch or two backwards as he lays into Derek, hands braced against his shoulders, Derek's socked feet dug firmly into his back. Scott's got Derek precisely where he wants, how he wants him – his brother, his fucking sexy big brother, moaning in time with Scott's cock as he fucks him good and deep.

"So fucking tight big bro, fuck, gonna make me come before I'm even finished with you." Scott tries for a kiss but it's mostly teeth, Derek pushing back just as good as he's getting it.

"Bet all those guys on the team would be jealous if they knew – you're the only one who gets my ass Scott." Derek cries out as Scott slows down just a notch and rolls his hips, changing the sensation completely. It makes Derek's fangs drop, pure reflex on his part, and Scott backs off just a little, shifting a hand to Derek's chest to feel his heart beat.

"Better be," Scott growls, feeling Derek tighten around him again. Scott nearly bites his tongue in half at the sensation, Derek looking up at him with a shit eating grin.

"Or what? My little bro gonna fuck them up if they try and touch me?"

"Damn fucking right." Scott pulls out, looks down at Derek's stretched hole, the clear, heady smelling slick on his thighs and ass cheeks – it makes him swear, then "on your knees – gonna make you scream for me."

If Derek had known that this was going to bring out the dominant side of Scott he'd have suggested it much sooner.

Derek complies quickly, getting a good, tight hold of the leather cushions as Scott hauls him back by his jock strap and fucks right back into him. He knows Scott's close, given the increasingly erratic thrusts of his hips.

"Gonna come soon, little bro?" Derek's looking back at Scott and chewing his bloody lip, his eyes dark yellow where his wolf's hiding right underneath the surface.

Scott's eyes go red, then back to brown, his brow doused with sweat as it drips down onto Derek's back. "Your fault if I do."

Derek reaches back and pulls him in for a kiss, tongues out of their mouths before they even connect, Derek's voice saturated with barely controlled lust. "Want to come like this Scott, want you to kiss me when that big fucking knot of your splits me open good and wide." Derek grinds back against Scott, riding that edge right along with him.

"Don't think you're…. shit, _Derek!_ "

Scott kisses him alright, and between Scott's fangs nearly impaling his jaw and the knot that fills his ass, Derek suddenly has a pleasure-pain kink – or at least he thinks he does.

Scott's orgasm lasts a full minute, shuddering and shouting and curling in over Derek's body, buried deep inside. Derek swears he can feel the come run back out there's so much, even around the tight seal of Scott's knot. Derek orgasms as soon as Scott pulls on his nipples, heavy ropes of spunk making thick, wet sounding splatters against the brown leather cushions. It's going to be a bitch to clean but hell if Derek cares even a little, given the way he's offered up to heaven and then pulled back down into Scott's arms.

With the way Scott's knot is holding him tight there's no way they can break apart – or fuck again – quite yet, so Scott gets his arms around Derek as best he can and shifts them over a cushion, Derek seated in his lap and leaning back against his shoulder.

Scott gets some of Derek's come off the cushion next to him with his fingers and feeds it to Derek, watching as he sucks greedily right on down to the knuckles. The sensation of Derek's tongue sliding and cleaning his fingers makes his dick jump inside Derek, both of them groaning as a result. They know they're going be stuck like this for a while, so Scott kisses the mess from Derek's mouth and grabs his cock at the same time.

Derek shies away after thirty seconds of Scott stroking, his legs shaking from the flood of endorphins in his system.

"Think I've hit my limit for now, babe." Derek's cheeks and chin are streaked with a mix of blood, come, and spit, caked on with sweat that keeps beading the longer Scott's inside him.

"Sorry," Scott mumbles against his neck. He rubs Derek's belly, trying his hardest to not touch his still throbbing dick.

"Don't be – that's the hardest I've come in a long time. Well, this whole weekend but you get my point." Derek reaches down and tugs at Scott's balls, just to see what happens.

It makes Scott's knot swell another quarter inch and suddenly Derek finds himself regretting the decision.

Scott manages coherent words again, wishing he could get his shoulder pads off. "I like this."

"What? Being balls deep while our legs fall asleep?"

Scott chuckles, then kisses Derek's shoulder. "Not exactly – I was talking about us. This. Just… it's what I want, Derek."

"Even when we pretend to be brothers?"

Scott shivers and it transfers right up Derek's spine, too. "Especially when we pretend to be brothers."

Derek hums in agreement, then kisses Scott again because it's something he's not ever going to get tired of. When they finally part again, Derek smiles, then asks "so – are you interested in any other sports?"

Scott's expression of _don't you fucking dare_ is priceless.


End file.
